Private Stripes
by FlipierFat
Summary: Shadow decides being a freelance hero is not enough to fulfill Maria's dream, and joins the military responsible for making his life hell: GUN. As he embarks on a war in Africa, Sonic and Tails stay home to discover being supersonic makes you lose detail, and the homefront becomes much more clear as they slow down and discover missing pieces in the puzzle of the world.
1. Prologue

_**Somewhere in Madagascar, 0100 Hours**_

Another bullet hit the sand colored wall in front, and Shadow flung himself down, cursing, waiting for the enemy's burst to cease. His team members did the same; one slightly braver than the rest, his belt fed machine gun continuing to pour lead into any space in front of the compound where he detected movement - real or imagined.

The hits ceased. Knees digging into the hard beige ceiling, Shadow continued to return fire over the low wall. Only a few figures were completely visible at this range, and even though his weapon was of a lower caliber and accuracy in comparison to a human's assault rifle, he managed to drop each of the less fortunate terrorists with ease.

 _This defense is just ten minutes old and it's becoming a struggle,_ he thought.

For the first time since boot camp, his energy spilled out into the world around him as though the cup holding it had shattered. His body searched frantically for its life power, searching, trying, _failing_. He recognized the signs of withdrawal surfacing: sweat, hunger, his body weakening. Nausea kicked in, his gut lurching, and he paused to rest his head against the cool wall, breathing deeply, trying to keep his disgusting MREs in his stomach.

He had to get the message out.

"Fuck!" he shouted, more out of pain then frustration. He had to get the message out. Through the nausea, almost throwing him, he called, "They've got their hands on a Chaos limiter!"

He should have suggested taking action sooner. Now, with the anthros' ability to move quickly neutralized, the platoon had no choice but to stand and fight.

 _How did_ _the_ poorly _funded largely civilian militia managed to get their hands on such an expensive piece of technology?_ It didn't matter in the heat of the moment, and Shadow pushed the thought away as an RPG's rocket flew just over the building he was in.

He couldn't hear a _thing_ through the ringing in his ears. They'd had no time to get ear protection on as Boko Haram had attacked in the dead of night, with no one prepared for the assault. If Shadow's combat-oriented hearing couldn't pick up any other sounds, no one in the entire _area_ could either.

The G.U.N platoon was trapped.

Someone patted his shoulder, and he ducked behind the wall to find the Polish soldier he'd known since boot camp, speaking to him in rapid, worried hand signals.

 _How much power can you draw through this?_ he gestured, hands moving swiftly in front of his grenade launcher equipped rifle.

 _Just enough for a single Chaos Spear, but there's no way I can get close enough to use it,_ Shadow signed back.

The Pole cursed under his breath, raising his weapon to aim and launch a forty mike mike towards the enemy they thought they saw. Shadow returned to his position, seeing many more figures moving through the dark. Every shot he fired kicked up sand and dust into his face, and debris flung into his eyes. He switched to fully automatic and sprayed down the enemies' area, blinking his way through the pain. Tears welled, trying to force the dust out.

The warrior's gun stopped firing, the magazine empty. It dropped to the floor as he drew another from his plate carrier. Once locked and loaded, he raised himself once again to find that the enemy was _charging._ He stared, dumbstruck for a moment, then calculated quickly with his heart sinking in his chest. He knew he shouldn't; it was a waste of time, but he couldn't help but think of the hopelessness of the situation.

 _There's hundreds of them... there's only fifty of us._

Finally, resigned, he pushed the calculations out of his head and concentrated on dropping the suicidal insurgents one by one.

Although he couldn't hear the bullets going by, he could _feel_ the sonic boom of each round pounding in his chest. At this point, Shadow had stopped paying attention to the bullets narrowly missing him, ignoring the enemies' sporadic fire and standing to kill another insurgent that was too close for him to hit otherwise.

To his side, a man was hit, though he didn't even pay mind to it. Shadow watched almost dumbstruck as the wounded man ignored the missing flesh from his shoulder and kept firing, barrel resting on the wall.

Then it happened.

A flash, out the corner of his eyes. When he looked, he could see the faint smoke trail following a rocket. Opening his mouth, he barely had time to scream a warning before it was drowned out by the RPG thudding into the building.

" _INCOMING!"_

The structure collapsed. The roof he was standing on dropped out from beneath him.

There was no time to scream, yelp or even _think._ Shadow hit the ground on his back, and knew nothing more.


	2. Chapter I - But why?

_...The Joint Chiefs of Staff and the brokers on Wall Street said: 'Don't make us laugh, you're a smart kid. Time is linear, memory is a stranger, history is for fools, man is a tool in the hands of the great God Almighty.'_

 _And they gave him command of a nuclear submarine and sent him back in search of the Garden of Eden._

 _\- Roger Waters, "Perfect Sense, Part I", Amused to Death, 1992_

X-X

 **Mystic Ruins, 0900 hours**

People said not to worry about the past. Hell, even his closest friends did. At the time, he found the whole thing quite pointless. The past leads to the future, why shouldn't he worry? However, it was different now.

" _I now understand why I am here. I made a promise and I'm here to keep it. Today, I put my past behind me."_

And it was behind him.

The massacre, the cannon, even the face-off against Doom itself; it was all in the past. The promise he'd made could now be fulfilled. Soon he would live with that promise, always working for it-no- _preserving_ it.

Their eyes were locked, not deviating even a nanometer, as if studying each other for absolute memorization, for an exam that would decide their lives.

Someone failed the test.

"You said you were gonna do _what!?"_ Sonic closed the distance between their faces in a flash, and was face to face with Shadow. The panicked face on his rival almost made him roll his eyes.

 _You really can't get a simple acknowledgement from faker, can you?_ Shadow ended his side of the now long gone silence. "Yes, I said that. What else do you need to know? Also, pick up your jaw, it's going to start hurting if it stays on the floor."

A hand went up to his chin, and his mouth quickly closed. "Shads," Sonic pressed on, trying to ignore the fact that his once relaxed quills were tensing as if he was about to go to battle. "I think you had one too many minutes of _interaction_ , let's call it, with crazy people. Well, _mostly_ people. You-"

"Call me that again, and you will not have the _capability_ to call me that again."

"What you gonna do, grab my tongue?" Sonic mumbled, coming off low, words and tone not going together. He crossed his arms, and turned his head, looking at the window.

"Hey, Sonic? You alright? Why the low voice, stressed out?"

A fox cub walked in from the workshop of his warehouse, stopping in the middle of the doorway with his two tails curling uncertainly around his legs. A black torch sat heavily in his hand, a welding mask pulled off his face and over his head, standing barely tall enough for his forehead to brush the door-handle. Tails rested one hand on the doorframe, raising an eyebrow at his older brother. Although only half of them were showing, the ocean blue irises of the kit seemingly lifted Sonic out of an ocean of his own.

" _Well_ -" Shadow began, immediately cut off as if he'd never spoken.

"Nothin's bothering me, buddy," Sonic started, and walked over to the doorway next to his brother, shifting his weight and resting a hand on his hip. " _Something_ just got into our black and red friend, and messed up the part of his brain that does the thinking bit!" he mocked.

"Hmph."

"Hey! Don't 'hmph' me, faker! Can't you see that's part of the problem?"

"I thought we decided _I_ would designate _you_ as the _'_ faker', and _you_ have been the one interrupting _me_ ," Shadow protested, voice getting deeper with every word until it reached a near growl.

"Shadow, you're not even yourself right now, How do we know that you're _not_ a clone? Maybe one of those androids-"

"Alright, we gonna argue or is someone going to tell me what's going on?" Tails asked, holding in a giggle. Tails liked when the two hedgehogs argued. It was always fun to see the polar opposite personalities go at each other.

His next words, though, weren't anywhere near as fun.

"After defeating Black Doom, I've working towards nothing. Just living with you two and visiting Club Rouge occasionally. It's time for a change, for me, anyway…"

"And that change is?" Tails asked, impatiently.

In hindsight, the silence was preferable to what Shadow ended up saying.

"It's about time I start working towards keeping my promise, to protect the world we live in. I'm already over everything that's happened; Maria's death, Prison Island, my first death, Black Doom especially… although they _were_ after my blood, they were just following orders..."

Shadow's glare turned into a thousand yard stare, gazing into a very specific part of the room, but not picking up any detail either. He shook his head.

"I've decided to become a warrior for G.U.N."

The half grin on the two-tailed fox's face dropped away, his eyes widening as though someone had stuck one of those tails into a power outlet. The torch slipped from his grasp and he fumbled trying to catch it again. He needed something to hold, reality failing him and falling apart. On the ground, he grabbed his torch and squeezed it tight, clinging almost.

"Uh, Tails... buddy? You alright?" Sonic's voice was sharp with concern. After years of battling at the sound barrier, he learned that even a misplaced foot could bring a massive injury.

Tail's sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. "Yeah, Sonic. I'm fine. I think,"

He stood back up, sandwiched between black and blue as the two hedgehogs loomed over him, and the room was eerily silent. Not that it wasn't always this quiet - there wasn't much in the workshop to _make_ noise after all. A hangar for the Tornado, a kitchen, warehouse for woodworking, and a living room where the brothers slept. That was all. There was never much noise, but this silence was different. It was filled with feeling, one that triggered a sixth sense, a taste of tension.

As per usual, he formed a clever (and quite amusing, if he said so himself) plan; his strategies and tactics honed by years of experience in telling Sonic what to do.

"Oh! Okay, that makes sense, Shadow. I understand your reasoning. G.U.N would be a pretty good place to start protecting the world, they are a military, in the end." He kept his voice light, cheerful, his motives hidden.

"Woahwoahwoah, Tails, do you know-" Sonic was cut off by the fox's hand in his face, positioned so Shadow couldn't see the sign he was making.

The two hedgehogs' consciences spoke at the same time.

 _Ohhh, right. You sneaky little fox._ Sonic's eyes went wide with inspiration, but he managed not to smile.

 _Ha. Even his own little brother wants his mouth shut._ Although Shadow wanted to, he hid his amusement, not wanting to hurt the other's feelings. No need for unnecessary damage.

"So, Shadow, I'm assuming you wanna be wherever pretty soon?" Tails asked.

"Yes. As soon as possible. I planned on telling you two, then Rouge, before I head off to Central City."

"Alright. Hey, Sonic! Why don't you get Shadow's things so he can go?" The ghost of a grin could be seen on Tail's snow white muzzle.

"Whatever you say, lil' bro!" Sonic said, flickering and reappearing same place with a smug grin on his face and a black backpack in hand.

"He _knows_ us, Sonic. No need to do the 'wanna see me do it again' thing," Tails remarked.

"But it _never_ gets old, you know that!"

A groan unexpectedly came from the direction of the bag's owner. "Just give me my things, _please and thank you."_

Sonic tossed the bag across the, admittedly not very large room, and Shadow caught it with ease without even moving his hand. "Well, I'm glad you two made this easy for me. At least... easier than I thought it would be," Shadow started. "I'm leaving now. Good luck to you both."

"You too, Shads!"

"Bye, Shadow!"

Shadow made a shape with his mouth that could be mistaken as a smile, turned around, and walked towards the wooden door that would lead him out into the Mystic Ruins, questions and final thoughts passing through his focus. _I might miss them. Especially Miles._ He paused, almost, stride faltering. _How is Rouge going to react to me joining G.U.N? She works with them, after all. I might get put in a job shadow with her for a while. Hmph. Suits me. How would the commander-_

He hissed as a sharp, metallic object bit into his ankle, his stride coming to a sudden halt. Like a kid with his shoes tied together, he stumbled and tripped.

His face met the stone floor, air leaving his lungs with a pained _oomf_.

A hysterical hedgehog and giggling fox were the only things Shadow could hear, aside from the ringing in his head; as loud as the aftermath of having an artillery piece fire next to someone's ear.

 _Damn. damn it all. I'm going to kill that blue hedgehog._

Shadow attempted to move his arm to lift himself off the ground. The arm didn't respond, as if it belonged to someone else.

 _Okay. I'm going to kill that blue hedgehog after the shock settles._

Sonic was laughing helplessly, grasping at his stomach as if someone inside of him was flailing around a feather like a madman. Tails, on the other hand, had stopped laughing a while ago, and was amusing himself by watching his brother in a state of chaos.

"Alright, alright. Sonic, _control_ ," he said finally, eyes amused.

"Right…. yeah, control, _heh_ , alright,"

Tails walked over to the black and red heap on the ground, feeling bad for him. He wasn't even moving. If it weren't for his 'ultimate' body, he would probably be either out cold or with a concussion.

"Come on Sonic, we can't just leave him on the ground forever. Get his arms."

"S-sure buddy, _heh ha,_ w-whatever you say…" Sonic managed to get out, before falling back into his giggling fit.

Fortunately Sonic's body was at least responding, and he grabbed Shadow by the biceps. Tails grabbed Shadow's thighs, and spun his namesake so that he hovered off the ground. They managed to get Shadow sitting on the couch in a position that looked somewhat comfortable enough, and waited for Shadow to get his muscles back under control.

X-X

"Sonic, you can't wait until I've already used rock to switch to paper."

"Oh come on, how'd you notice?" White gloves came up in surrender.

"What do you _mean_ , 'How'd you notice'? You played your hand a good _two seconds_ after I played mine!"

"Never liked Rock Paper Scissors anyway," Sonic said, crossing his arms and lips turning into a pout.

" _Of course_ , you don't like-"

"I… am going… to _kill_ you… faker…"

That broken chain of a sentence came from no other than Stripes himself, who seemed more lion than hedgehog.

"Oh, look who decided to wake up! Hey, Shads, what'd you dream about?" Sonic said, turning around and resting his chin in the palms of his hands.

"I never even closed my eyes, how could I dream?" He deadpanned, though Sonic couldn't exactly take the scene seriously with Shadow slump in the couch, practically buried by pillows and cushions.

"I dunno, I once fell asleep standing,"

"Before we continue with the sleep talk," Tails interjected, before the two could bicker any longer. "Shadow, we have some questions to ask you."

"After _I_ ask you one. How did you do that?" Shadow practically growled.

"Easy as pie. When you looked like you were deep in thought, I slipped some handcuffs on your ankles. Oh man, you should have _seen_ your face when you started tripping up!"

Shadow's eye ridge rose and eyelids narrowed. "When I'm out of these handcuffs I _will_ kill you."

"Yeahyeah, you _know_ ya can't do that," Sonic mocked.

"I beg to differ."

"Oh, but _Shadow_ ," Sonic's voice peaked, imitating Amy. "Who's gonna keep you angry enough to fight as good as you do?"

"I don't need you to keep _my_ morale low."

"Hmph," Crossing his arms, he turned his head away, pouting.

"My line, faker."

Sonic turned his head, closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

"Anyway," Tails groaned. "Shadow, why are you going to join G.U.N? Didn't they cause you all your problems that you were, no offense, so obsessed about?"

Shadow turned his head and closed his eyes. "My past is behind me. I no longer see the reason to hold a grudge against them; they publicly apologized to me and that was that."

"Shadow, if everyone knew what was good for them, they would apologize _before_ they did _anything_ , and bring you roses afterward," Sonic snapped, anger making his spikes bristle.

Shadow raised an eye ridge, and a smirk formed on the edge of his mouth. "Hmph, compliment I take it?"

"Yeah, Shadow, you can wreck a person's day." Sonic rolled his eyes.

"And that brings me back to my question," Tails said. "Shadow, why get into G.U.N when you can just protect the world with us? You're certainly capable enough to do it. Alone, even."

Shadow hung his head, looking at the checkerboard stone pattern on the ground. The kit's bright blue eyes were staring with curiosity, waiting for his answer. Shadow hesitated.

Shadow looked up and found himself face to face with Tails. There was a friendly, welcoming smile on his face that seemed to say _'I'm here for you, you can tell me!'_

 _Oh Hell, why not._ "G.U.N is something I am actually intrigued by. They are, obviously, more organized and have more personnel and equipment. But there is something else that I think I can benefit from. Have you watched any war movies?

Tails nodded. "Yeah, I've seen a couple human ones, like _The Luck of Barry Lyndon_ and _Blackhawk Down_."

"Ever see _Generation Kill_?" Shadow asked.

"I have." Sonic propelled himself into the conversation. "Not like me, I know. Knuckles made me watch it."

"You saw the kind of friendship those soldiers had, with each other? I…" Shadow strayed off. "I've never had that kind of comradeship fighting along with you people. I wish to get that feeling. Rouge said that she got that family type mentality when she was in infantry too, before she went towards the spy route. Fighting along people that I barely know, but depend on so heavily, would help me, I think..."

There was a short silence. A storm had left the warehouse, and now, only the enlightening sun remained.

"Shads." Sonic leaned in with concern. "You want to go into a military that made your previous life a living hell, just so you can gain an emotional tie with people? Is that it?"

Shadow sighed. "Yes, essentially. There's a small piece of my mind that makes me wonder how their defense force operates. We've only seen their city guard units, so what about the international ones? But... that's just a stray side thought of mine."

"So," Tails started, sounding like he just solved a puzzle that had eluded him until now. "You want to join G.U.N to keep your promise to Maria, gain emotional trust, and out of pure curiosity, find out how they operate. Am I right?" Tails sounded satisfied with both himself and Shadow's explanation.

Shadow, for the first time ever it seemed, fully smiled. "Yeah. You got it right,"

Tails turned his head around, smiling at his blue friend. Sonic in turn, winked back.

Tails thought about hugging Shadow, but decided against a kick to the stomach.

X-X

Shadow gently shut the door behind him, looking out at the cliffs Mystic Ruins. The air somehow felt more pure than in or around a city, and Shadow enjoyed resting outside or going out for a run. Hanging off the edge of a cliff by his fingers always was an enjoyable experience, knowing that even if he fell, he'd still be alright.

He put his black bag on the stair in front of him, and got on one knee. Taking out his trusty, full sized Model 444, .44 Magnum that he'd begun to carry a while ago, the stainless steel glistened in the sunlight. Shadow had a change in taste after the Black Doom incident and, no longer stressed heavily on how many shots he could dish out. He now used his guns to take out a select few dangers that would be tough up close before he went in, akin to designated marksman in an infantry squad.

 _Once I get into G.U.N, I won't be needing you, will I?_

Shadow sighed _._ He knew that he was probably allowed to keep it, but a standard issue assault rifle would replace it for primary use. He flung the cylinder open, and slowly twisted it, chamber clicking periodically like some sort of therapeutic noise maker. After swinging the chamber closed again, Shadow cocked the hammer of the beast and stored it in his quills.

He wasn't concerned about the gun going off into the back of his head. It had already happened once with an M1911, and that's when he found out the inside of his quills were bulletproof.

 _Heh. 'Bulletproof Quills, Professor Gerald's Design. Only seven billion U.F Dollars.'_

Shadow checked that all of his speed loaders were secured on the front side of the bag's straps, in their custom made pockets that Rouge had helped him make a few months ago. After zipping the bag shut, with both zipper clips meeting in the center for easy emergency access, he launched it over his shoulders and over his back quills, tightening the straps. He always hated wearing equipment, other than his shoes and gloves. Even his inhibitor rings drove the hedgehog mad at times. His memories of it's origin would explain the scratched area on the inside of his left ring, showing something that used to be engraved but was now illegible.

"Shadow!" The named hedgehog turned around to an open door and Tails, a watch in his hand.

"I almost forgot! Here!" the fox whipped the watch onto Shadow's wrist. "It's one of our communicators, it's designed to look like a regular watch. You mind in ear monitors?"

"No," Shadow said. "I prefer them more than over or on ears. Not in the way as much, and I like the bass of most of them."

"Shadow, we _all_ know about your fancy music preference."

"Hmph, I thought you and Sonic liked electric," Shadow remarked.

"We don't like it when it's _all_ electric, especially when the regular instruments are artificially sped up. How is anyone supposed to play that stuff?" Tails corrected. In his other hand, was a single, wireless earphone.

"You know I hate my audio wireless," he deadpanned.

"Shut up, it's meant to be concealable, and convenient," Tails countered. "It's tuned for voice clarity, so music won't be so great anyway. It has emphasis on the mid-highs, since me and Sonic have high voices."

"I think you just did that so I really can't possibly enjoy music with them."

"Jazz would be okay."

Shadow rolled his eyes and sighed. "Club Rouge has live performances _every bloody day_. If I want jazz I'll go there."

"Wouldn't matter anyway, only works one ear at a time to make sure you always have a free ear listening around," Tails explained. "Here's the other."

"Thanks, before I see Rouge, radio check?

"Yeah!" Tails pulled out a walkie-talkie and Shadow inserted the ear piece. Inside, it was almost invisible.

"Tails to Shadow, comm check."

Shadow heard the voice through his ear clearly, with the signature low bitrate and crackly noise that came with radio communication. "Loud and clear."

"Cool! you should be ready to go!"

"I'll radio in at 11pm everyday except the night I start basic. I'll need to pass these off as music earphones, and I hear that the instructors keep you up the whole night on your first day."

"Okay Shadow, catch you later!" Tails slipped back in through the door, waving.

"Talk to you soon..."

As soon as those words had left Shadow's mouth, he was gone, leaving two columns of scorched grass and sand, and a window shattering sonic boom.

Tails sighed, a smile on his face. He pressed a button on his own communicator, and new glass rose from the window sill below the window, and trap doors flung open both outside the window, and in the house, depositing the broken glass.

X-X

Tails walked away from the front door, sighing with content. Sonic was already on the couch, flipping on the television.

 _"...and in more world news, President Kent has confirmed that Queen Sally XII has confirmed acceptance of joint operations in South Africa and Madagascar to strike Boko Haram at it's heart, likely prompted by the terrorist attack on London that was claimed to be executed by their hands..."_

The news lady continued to ramble, Sonic let out a loud groan, vocal cords like the strings on a guitar, being strung oh so wrong by a terrible player. "Everytime I turn on the news, I have no idea what they're talking about, or why," he said, followed by a yawn. One hand stretched to the sky while the other rubbed his eye.

Tails shrugged. "I think they have two channels for it. One for cause, the other for effect. You could go on the other to see what's up."

Sonic silently complied, and the channel switched. He almost jumped at the sudden change of tone and energy on the TV. G.U.N Troopers were laying down under a low wall, with sounds of gunshots and explosions constantly blasting through the speakers. All of the soldiers were wearing helmets with black visors along with a mask, covering their face in all black.

The reporter turned the camera to himself. His teeth were in a constant state of being clenched, even when talking.

"Hello! Good morning to you back home, this is Terry Lloyd coming to you live from Albu Assaf, which is just five miles from the city of Ramadi, which is about an hour's drive from Al-Fallujah, which is the goal of this campaign currently. _Ah!"_

He winced as a bullet landed just a few paces in front of him, and the he flattened himself to the ground. However, he kept talking, almost commentating the actions of the fight.

"Right now, we just got ambushed by Boko Haram forces who…" He raised the camera over the wall. There was a line of trees, and tracers coming both to and from the position. "They don't seem too happy to see us. We got the civilians out of the line of fire as you can see." He turned the camera back to show a small compound that was completely empty. "And right now we're just returning fire."

Meanwhile, Sonic tilted his head. His quills were tensed, ready for action, yet the unarmed reporter was seemingly hosting a reality show.

"Sooo, Tails, what the heck is going on here?" He looked back, and found that his brother was giving almost the same reaction. His namesakes were frozen, pointed to a tee.

"Well, you know. Not every problem in the world is _our_ problem, the United Federation deals with villains that are just like Eggman all the time. Right now they're in the Middle East fighting terrorists."

Sonic chuckled. "Come on, I know _that._ I'm talking about this guy! He's getting shot at and the most he can do is act like it's a football game!"

Tails shrugged. "Whatever keeps someone interested, I guess. Some people just won't watch something without there being some fun or tension."

Another sound caught the duo's attention, coming from the TV speakers. A man fell backwards, his friend clutching his arm. _"Corpsman!"_

" _Hey! Is he alright?"_ the reported shouted. One of the troops shook their head. _"God damn Rolling Stone, stick your camera up your bloody-"_

The television cut to static, then to a woman sitting at a desk, papers in hand.

" _Breaking news as we speak, Breezie the Hedgehog, head of Breeze Media is in some hot water with the United Federation government, after supposedly getting into some juicy personal information of the G.U.N Commander! More on this, after the break!"_

Sonic turned back to his brother, with an uneasy smile.

"Soo, what was _that_ about?"

X-X

" _I do not mean to imply that television news deliberately aims to deprive Americans of a coherent, contextual understanding of their world. I mean to say that when news is packaged as entertainment, that is the inevitable result. And in saying that the television news show entertains but does not inform, I am saying something far more serious than that we are being deprived of authentic information. I am saying we are losing our sense of what it means to be well informed."_

 _\- Neil Postman, 'Amusing Ourselves to Death', 1985_


	3. Chapter II - Club in the Concrete Jungle

_I am just a new boy,_

 _A stranger in this town._

 _Where are all the good times?_

 _Who's gonna show this stranger around?_

 _Ooooh, I need a dirty woman._

 _Ooooh, I need a dirty girl._

 _\- Pink Floyd, "Young Lust", The Wall, 1979_

X-X

Slowing down to subsonic speeds, Shadow neared Westopolis, not wanting to attract the attention of any fighter interceptors that might have scrambled with the orders to shoot down a supersonic intruder. He knew that the jets would never find him, but wanted to save the people of Westopolis the trouble of not only jet engines, but his chaos shoe-powered supersonic self as well. Both would very likely shatter every single window in the city.

He also knew how on edge citizens were after the Black Doom incident. The entire city had been completely leveled, not only by the Black Arms, but also G.U.N themselves, whose rules of engagement basically boiled down to " _Aliens! Fire everything!"_

Shadow androids; perfect organic clones of himself had terrorized the people of the city when Robotnik started his counter attack against Black Doom. That _alone_ would have probably turned the populous hostile against him. Then there was his role in Prison Island, which ended up a radioactive wasteland comparable to Bikini Atoll. _And he_ had been behind the attempt to take the lives of _everyone in the world_ by causing the ARK to fall out of orbit. Not to mention the many occasions he caused mass collateral damage while on his mission.

 _I really don't have it good with cities, do I?_

Finally through the bordering parks and forests, Shadow entered the main part of the city. Skyscrapers loomed above, strangely causing a sense of vertigo as he looked up at the ominous buildings. Just months ago, they were either empty, leveled, or in ruins. He skated on the sidewalks, zooming around anyone who happened to be in the way. Shadow _really_ did not want to be recognized here, so he maintained a speed that blurred him to anyone watching.

Several ninety degree turns later, he was on his way to where he knew his comrade's bar would be. It was low profile, kind of hidden. He found a ramp into a parking lot and followed it, leading underground. Inside was a single door with a _Club Rouge_ neon sign written vertically next to the it.

 _Oh. Oh no. I remember._ Shadow stopped, and turned around, making sure nobody had seen him. _I think I'm going to regret this._

He huffed and puffed, but he knew he had to tell her, and this was the only way without calling, which was reserved only for emergencies. Unfortunately for her friends, Rouge had found out that a certain basic animal act was not only very fun, but also very profitable.

"First a parking lot, then a fight club, now an adult entertainment joint," Shadow muttered, looking over his shoulder, before turning back and walking begrudgingly to the singular wooden door. He opened his mouth for a second and spat out an angry, "Fuck."

Shadow shuffled through his quills, finding his entrance card and presenting it to the human standing in the way of the door. Large, crusty hands took hold of it and brought the card to his face, where the guard promptly scoffed and threw it behind his back.

"Sorry kiddo, you need to renew that, it's outdated."

Shadow, slightly dumbfounded, looked the guard in the eye. "I am _very_ likely much older than you, and much more capable of doing damage to you. I am also Rouge's friend, so if you don't let me in, I'll just find a way to her myself," he said, crossing his arms in disapproval.

"You do realize my _job_ is to not people in, right? You're not getting in, so beat it."

 _Oh boy, I have_ _always_ _wanted to do this._ He reached into his quills, wrapping his fingers around the handcannon stored in the back of his head. Shadow drew the gun, and twirled it in his fingers, revolver spinning in the air. Bringing his other hand to his chin, he looked at his gun, deep in thought, before turning back to the human. He took hold of the handle firmly, then pointed the barrel at the man's head.

"Run."

The guard bolted, shoving past Shadow.

 _Probably with soiled pants,_ he thought, unable to resist a cold smile.

Past the ticket booth stood two doors, both with neon signs shining brightly above them in the dark, mostly wooden room. One was a human female laying on her hand, leg stretched outwards towards the neon sky. The other sign was a familiar bat, same pose, but instead of being on an imaginary ground the wings were flapping.

 _I guess this is the way for the anthropomorphics._

Shadow pushed himself through the door, and found himself subjected to bass-heavy dubstep and a light-show that nearly blinded his view of the chamber. His eyes quickly adjusted, designed to see in every combination of light and darkness, but he couldn't imagine how anyone else would be able to see properly in here. On the other end of the large room, there was a stage with a series of poles, each with at least a single female dancing upon it, ranging from cats, bats, lizards, and even a fox.

 _Oh, maybe that's the point._

Trying not to lose his balance on the narrow pathways between the crowds of both anthro and human spectators, he attempted to make his way through to the stage where he hoped to find some sort of staff room, prep room, anything that might lead to Rouge.

Nearly tripping over an unconscious mobian for the fourth time, muttering a hasty apology, Shadow decided he would ask. He found a human who looked like he was a regular and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello. Have you seen a bat: about my height, wears a pink, heart shaped dress, really tall high heels?"

The human man turned his gaze away from the dancers and onto Shadow's face. He chuckled,

"Oh, you want her, do ya? Well, only the highest paying get _her_! I only got to 'cause I had 500 on me. Boy, I'll tell ya, she's got a-"

By the time the regular had gotten to that point, Shadow had walked away, face burning, trying to push away the images of Rouge and the man, Rouge and another man, Rouge and _anyone_ , out of his head - and failing. Looking as nonchalantly as possible at the girls and trying to spot someone familiar, he thought, _God forbid I see Amy here… Rouge likes trouble. Maybe I should ask one of the performers._

Shadow, either with nerves of steel or no fucks given, walked up to the stage and climbed onto the wood-planked platform. Earthlings and Mobians alike watched in both shock and amazement as the ebony and crimson lifeform stood up and walked over to a pink furred cat. He tapped her on the shoulder. "Nmm?" she said, blinking at him from her odd position hanging upside down, legs making a V shape in the air. Shadow tried his best to resist the natural urge to look down… up?

"Hello," he said, staring determinedly at her eyes. "I'm looking for-"

The cat girl dropped off the pole and crawled on all fours like a wild lynx. Standing, she leaned her hands onto Shadow's white furred chest, looking up at him. "Ooohh, aren't you a bad boy?" she purred.

"I believe the term is bad _person,_ and believe me, I know what that entails." He pulled away from her slightly, uncomfortably, but she followed, almost determined.

"Words, words, words, how about some _action_?" The she rubbed Shadow's forearms and crimson eyes looked down upon her. She slid her hand slowly down his arm, almost as though she was going to take off his gloves.

 _I don't have time for-_

She was seemingly in heat as she pawed at Shadow's wrists, eyes still locked on his. She made a twisting motion with her hands.

 _What the..._

Unknowing of the consequences, the feline, somehow, removed one of Shadow's inhibitor rings. It fell onto the stage, landing with a " _zing!"_ and rolled until the wrist cover stopped its movement. Unbeknownst to the pole dancer, Shadow felt himself become drained, and Chaos energy expelled from his hand. Failing to hold it in, he gasped, and a giggle from the cat. "Enjoying this I take it?"

A roar, comparable to a jet engine combined with the devil himself boomed throughout the chamber. The ignorant cat leaped back, away from Shadow, fearing for her life. The whole chamber screamed; either running away, or completely silent. Smoke poured out of the Magnum's barrel, raised towards the ceiling. Chunks of drywall rained onto the audience, sawdust landing gracefully onto frozen heads. The boom of the hand cannon was strong enough to make even Shadow's combat oriented ears ring. He spoke, like a terrorist finished with his crime. "Do something like that again, and the _next_ shot won't be towards a ceiling,"

She nodded and fell onto her backside, legs wobbling, unable to support her own weight.

He blinked, drawing the hammer of the revolver back again and causing a few shrieks of terror in the crowd. Slowly, he holstered the hand cannon back into his quills, still staring down at the petrified cat. Bending over to pick up his ring, his ears flicked around to hear a sassy, high pitched voice behind him.

"Hiya Shadow, long time no see!" said the voice. Shadow turned, at first with eyes closed, expecting to see a near naked Rouge, but instead found himself faced with the bat's familiar casual outfit, pink heart on her chest and all. "Like what I did to the place?"

He turned his head around, glanced at the still shocked pink feline, and turned back with his eyes narrowed. "No."

Rouge chuckled, and waved at Shadow as if trying to claw at him. She raised her hand again, made a _'come hither'_ motion, and led Shadow past the stage and into an office. The office was sorely out of place, as though it belonged to a business building instead of a seedy strip joint. Inside was a typical wooden desk with papers scattered across it and some 'degrees' on the wall. Rouge closed the door behind her and giggled.

"What is it?" Shadow asked, and was met with a crushing hug from his comrade.

"Oh my God! I can't believe it Shadow! Congratulations!" Rouge practically squealed into Shadow's ear, causing the black warrior to cringe.

 _This hurts more than getting shot. In the knee._

Shadow pushed away Rouge, with her still rambling " _This is so great for you!_ ", and " _I'm so excited!"_

"Shut up one second, how do you know I'm joining G.U.N anyway?"

"Shads, I'm a _spy_ , doofus. How do you think I know that you're-" Rouge slowly walked up to Shadow, placing a finger under his chin. Shadow, if anything, looked annoyed. "-ticklish in your chest hair!"

Shadow kicked Rouge in the stomach, not hard enough to damage her in any way, but enough to launch her back and away from him. "No."

Rouge doubled over for a moment, then when she realized that nothing was hurting, laughed at Shadow's emotional isolation. To anyone else, the wall he'd constructed around himself was a permanent feature, as was his frown and never-ending indifference

Rouge, however, knew more than the rest. Sighing, she twisted the lock on the golden doorknob. "Shadow, no one is gonna hear you. You can talk like you usually do now,"

Like a curtain, the frown dropped from his face and it was like a light was shined upon his muzzle. A small smirk formed on his lips, and his eye ridges rose naturally, like a rock had been taken off of his head. "Okay. Now _really_ tell me how you already know."

Rouge giggled again and sat on the wooden desk. "I have cameras in all the places I like to visit. Many here, some in Westopolis, and I've got one in the living room of Tails' Workshop. I heard a commotion, so I listened in."

"Hmph, and there wasn't trouble on any other cameras? I'd think that you wouldn't waste time and resources putting up surveillance equipment in places that don't interest you. I think you were just listening for _me,_ weren't you?" Shadow raised an eye ridge, then shook his head with a _'you're so naughty'_ look on his face.

Rouge's cheeks turned pink. "Okay fine, I was watchin' you, but that isn't the point."

Shadow scoffed. "I'll trust you."

He looked away, up towards the wall with the _degrees_. He started to read one, but immediately looked away when he saw the words _Most Original Body_ on the top-most one. "Well," Shadow said finally. "Since you already know, why don't we discuss how I'm going to go about this?"

Shadow sat down in a chair, in front of Rouge's desk, and the bat sat behind it, squeaks from the leather chairs echoing around the room and bouncing off the soundproof walls. The bat began, "Alright, so we know you're going to have to go through basic training, think you'll be able to handle it, or you want to know some things about it?"

"I'll take the jist of it."

Rouge nodded and started, "First night is meant to do everything to you. Messes with your mind. You'll be scared, confused, angry, ill, in pain, everything! It's all just part of the process to weed out the weak, so don't get personal with the instructor,"

Shadow took it in, and asked, "How is the process for Anthros?"

"Well, you're not Mobian, so it's definitely more, _pleasant_ than the Overseas Legion program they've got, but it's still pretty rough. You know how humans hold grudges, especially over war and all," Rouge said, while twirling her finger in the air, rolling her eyes.

Shadow gave a dark chuckle. "Ha. I should know." Rouge realized her mistake but brushed it off. He could handle a few references to his past, so long as they weren't meant harmfully.

"Anyway, the way it works is that there are two instructors. One human, higher in rank, in charge. Then there's an anthro sub-instructor."

"Let me guess," Shadow rolled his eyes. "The human treats us like shit while the anthro actually teaches us?"

"It's actually the opposite. The anthro is the discipline guy. The human is more than likely the teacher of the two. It's meant to show you that you can't always trust your own, and to give trust in your human counterpart," she said, arms stretched out in the air. "Or as I like to put it: Our human overlords!"

"Huh, smart," Shadow deadpanned, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

Rouge grinned, looking smug. "Yep, although spy training kinda undoes any trust you had with anyone..."

"I'd imagine," he said, raising an eye ridge.

"Except you, Shads."

"I repeat my statement." Shadow met Rouge's eyes and smiled.

Rouge looked away, cheeks slightly red, and continued to explain before they burned any hotter. "Anyway, first month you'll have physical training, and you'll also be learning the basics of rank structure and such. Second month it'll be combat training, and marksmanship, third and last month is one big field test to see what you learned."

Shadow snorted. "Sounds easy."

"Well, I'd tell you a lil more, but I don't wanna spoil nuffin."

"Ha, well I'll be off then. By the way, do they allow headphones for music?"

"They allow them yes, only at night though. If you try listening to music while marching, you'll get beaten," Rouge said.

"They're not for music, Tails made me a communicator. Here's my frequency," Shadow showed Rouge the number on his watch, and she laughed.

"Well, you wouldn't be the Shadow I know if you weren't bringing something that would get you into massive amounts of trouble!" She took out her phone and made a note, making sure she got the five digit code correct. "Alright Shadboy, have fun!"

"Goodbye."

And on that word, Shadow sped out of the strip club, breathing a sigh of relief that he'd gotten out of that building without too much trouble. Without looking back, he powered off in the direction of the capital: Central City.

X-X

Just as he was leaving, Sonic and Tails were arriving. They passed each other, Sonic being the only one to notice the black blur that appeared in his vision for a second. He smiled. _Anti-social as always._

Going through the proper doors, the two made their way to the anthro stage, marveling at the emptiness and silence that the strip club was emitting. Drywall and dust floated down from the ceiling, the smell causing the kit to sneeze a few times, and the hedgehog to cough.

"Uh, Sonic?" Tails said, tugging on his brother's hand.

"Yeah, little buddy?"

"Aren't I, like, not allowed in here?"

Sonic stopped in his tracks, suppressing a laugh while patting Tails' head.

"Normally? No. But doesn't look like anything's goin' on here, so there's an exception."

"You say that," Tails responded, pointing. "But what about her?"

His eyes followed the finger to the stage, where there was a single pink cat, knees trembling while on the ground, seemingly petrified.

"...I see what you mean," he said, lips forming an 'o' just before he dashed over the the stage, hopping up four feet with ease. He bent over, extending a hand. She didn't seem to notice his presence, despite the two's chatter. Sonic's mind went to autopilot, his heroic and soft side taking control of his actions.

"Hey, my name's Sonic."

She turned her head of the ground and looked back at him, immediately snapping back in fear, shaking. Sonic got down on one knee, careful not to get to invasive.

"Hey hey, it's alright. No one's gonna hurt you. I'm Sonic, Sonic the Hedgehog."

Still nothing. He bit his lip in frustration. She was truly terrified, and no amount of counselling or reasoning was going to get through to her. His face dropped, not in anger or sadness, but in disappointment. Of himself. His inability to help this destroyed innocent.

And if anyone knew Sonic the Hedgehog, they would know that disappointment was much worse. 

Steps came from behind him, the clicking of high heels echoing throughout the empty chamber. He blew dust out of his nose and whirled around, ready to fight whoever put the cat into this position.

"Whoever you are, come out slowly if you don't want a spindash to your face."

The buildup of tension was disappointed as a white bat stepped out, swagger in her step. _"Relax,_ blue. It's only little ol' me!"

Sonic looked down at his own fists, then quickly put them behind his back.

"Oh, it's just you, Rouge," he said.

"The one and only!" She raised the roof while walking over to him. Tails couldn't help but chuckle a little as her voice echoed at least five times. He took off, flying over to the stage.

"Nice to see you here and all," Sonic said, stumbling after receiving a surprise hug. "But what's the deal with her? She get mugged or something?"

Rouge shook her head. "Nah. Shadow climbed on the stage. She was doing her job. Things happened."

"Did he hurt her!?" Tails exclaimed, feet landing on the wooden planked floor.

She shook her head again. "Murdered the ceiling with a .44 Magnum, though."

There was silence for a moment, the terrified breathing of the cat the only sound.

"Sooo, anyone gonna help her?" Sonic asked.

"Meh, I'll get a trauma expert on her later."

In the office, they all took a seat. Sonic noticed Tails reading the diplomas on the wall, and after reading them himself, noted that he probably didn't understand them.

"So, what brings you to this 18+ club?" she asked, cheek resting on a gloved hand. "I could have you boys thrown out pretty easily for being underage, all I need to do is call my bodyguard's name and you're gone."

Sonic laughed, treating it as an empty threat. "You know you wouldn't do that, batgirl."

"Of course not, but back to it. What you need? Someone beat up? A priceless jewel in your starting collection? _Services?"_

"I'm going to go ahead and pretend you didn't say that last part," Sonic started. "But none of the above. We actually wanted to learn about a few things, specifically about what G.U.N's been up to."

Rouge's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! Why didn't you just say so?"

She opened a drawer and took out some files, and Sonic raised an eye ridge.

"You bring that stuff to work?" he asked.

"If you're going to say that it's not safe to bring classified documents here, I'd be a lil' offended. Come on blue, thought I was the world's best spy?" she said, smiling behind a folder. "So what you want to know?"

Tails piped up. "Well, we were watching the news and we saw a report of the Middle East, and it didn't really tell much of anything."

She nodded. "Ah. I know what you mean. Lemme tell you a thing or two about the United Federation, G.U.N, and why we're doing what we're doing."

"The United Federation is a superpower only to be challenged by the anthropomorphic natives of Unified Mobius. A nation so large it needed to develop the ability to fly to get messages from one side to the other. Spawned in a glorious war fought all over the world between the progressive thinkers of the United Kingdom, Russia, Prussia, France, the United Fifteen States and even the Pope himself back in 1842. Together they united all of Europe and even Asia. Although diverse, all are full of pride and passion.

However not all were in favor. The Islamic Empires in the late twentieth century were close allies to the Federals, though many were against it. An enemy formed, named Boko Haram, who wanted to take the ideals of Islam to the front page of every rule and law book in the world. They overthrew the monarchies, and in response, G.U.N invaded to place the kings and queens back at their thrones."

Sonic slowly nodded, taking in all of the information. _Tails probably already knows all this, for pete's sake._

Said fox raised a finger. "So we know the broad picture, but what about the specifics? What's going on right now?"

She wagged her own finger. "There's only so much I can tell you before I'd have to kill you, boys."

" _Kill us!?"_

Rouge kept her steady smile. "It's called classified information. Thought you'd know about that."

Before they could say thanks for the help, however:

" _But,_ I can give you the basics. We have two fronts. One from Turkey, who's an independent ally, and one from Lebanon, where we had to mount an amphibious landing in order to get that territory back. Right now the Lebanese front is at a standstill, but the Turkish one got going pretty good. So far we got all the way to Bagdad where we're trying to get into Al-Fallujah. On the other end, Al-Zabadani is where the front is now, heading towards Damascus."

"Why's progress so slow there?" Tails asked.

"People back in Beirut causing problems mostly," she said. "So we have to send back our troops to go deal with the insurgency while also holding the front line."

Sonic's signature smug grin popped onto his face. "People stepping out of line? Sounds like a job that we'd be good at dealing with. I mean, who can possibly argue with the great Sonic the Hedgehog?"

Tails raised a shaky finger.

"You too, buddy." Sonic said, patting him on the head. Rouge shrugged her shoulders.

"If you want to, go for it. We could certainly use whatever help we can get when it comes to crowd control," she said.

"Looks like we know what we're doing! Next stop, _Beirut!"_

Sonic stood up, wiping his hands.

While they were still clean.

X-X

" _You signed the contract, you crying bitch, and you fought in a war because of your signature, no one held a gun to your head."_

 _\- Anthony Swofford, 'Jarhead', 2003_


	4. Chapter III - Reception

' _Gump! What's your sole purpose in this army?'_

' _To do anything you tell me, Drill Sergeant!'_

 _\- Robert Zemeckis' "Forrest Gump", 1994_

X-X

 **Central City: 1945 hours**

Shadow sighed and read over the paperwork again, making sure he hadn't missed anything. He wanted to be placed in the most ideal group possible, and that meant not looking like someone whose only profession was being bossed around.

Name: Shadow the Hedgehog

Age: N/A

Birthplace: Space Colony ARK

Weight: 35kg

Height: 100cm

Hair/Fur Color(s): Ebony, Crimson, White

Eye Colour: Crimson

Required Attire: Chaos Skates, Inhibitor Rings.

Other Important Items: .44 Caliber Revolver with Ammunition.

Powers: Speed, Chaos.

Strengths: Hand to hand combat, marksmanship, stealth, problem solving, etc.

Weaknesses: N/A

Weapon(s) Training: Rifle and Pistol Marksmanship, Hand to Hand Combat, HEMA.

Place(s) Trained: Space Colony ARK

Family: N/A

Friends/Family in Service: Rouge the Bat.

Rank in Previous Service: N/A

Hobbies: N/A

Address: N/A

Signature: _Shadow the Hedgehog_

 _ **I hereby confirm that all the information is true and correct.**_

Tapping the desk with his pen, Shadow signalled the woman behind the counter that he'd completed his forum, satisfied with his answers. The woman walked over, grabbing the forum without glancing at it or him. She walked behind a counter and slid the paper into a cylinder and put it in a chamber, similar to a chute found at a bank, the cylinder vanishing with a _thwoosh_.

 _I guess it's going off to whoever needs that information._

A slip of paper ejected out of a printer, and the woman took it and handed it to Shadow.

"When you hear your number called, head up to floor six," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, thank you."

As Shadow walked back to his chair, he examined the slip. It contained a flag at the top for his place of origin, a six digit number, and the list he had filled out. He grabbed his bag off the back of his chair and turned his head around, seeing other recruits lounging around, their own slips in their hands.

He noticed that _their_ places of origin were different. Most were identified by the fifteen red and white striped flag, a blue background and eight pointed star in the top left corner. Shadow's own only had the flag of the United Federation, meaning he was alone in his own category. A citizen of the same country, but still alone.

A voice over an invisible intercom blared.

" _Recruit 4859 to floor six. Repeat, recruit 4859 to floor six."_

 _Well, that was quick._

Shadow took hold of his bag and zoomed across the lounge, into the staircase, and up five flights of stairs in the blink of an eye. He reached the level, labeled on the wall with a massive number six. Before going in, he examined the chamber for anyone who may have saw him. It wasn't important, but the habit was good to practice, especially being someone that more than a few people wanted dead.

It wasn't a person, but Shadow noticed a camera on the flight below him. _They're in for a shock. If they find that one frame, that is._

With a smirk on his face, he went through the door and was met with a hallway. Halfway down was a hastily written message on a whiteboard, and an arrow pointing into the only open room in sight: 'Recruits to this room!'

Before entering, Shadow took notice of the mood of this place. It wasn't just a reception office, it was a reception _building_ with many floors, all of which were constantly busy. From the outside, he had to shield his eyes from the reflection the skyscraper made, as its walls were almost entirely made up of glass; to an outsider, who would have been taking in the smoky, and slightly sweet smell of the city, there would be no clues to hint to the military purpose of the building.

He waltzed into the room, and was immediately hit with a question. "Number," demanded a woman in a green service uniform, sitting at a desk, shuffling through papers.

Shadow started to list Club Rouge's phone number, but was promptly stopped.

" _No,_ the number you were given not even two minutes ago."

Shadow inwardly sighed, but complied. "Four eight five nine."

 _If it wasn't even two minutes ago, why couldn't you remember it?_

"Okay, what's your name?" she asked.

"Shadow the Hedgehog," he said. "I could give you this list to-"

" _No,_ I asked for your name and your name _only,_ " the human resource officer deadpanned. "What gender do you identify as?"

"Male."

"Any medications?"

"No."

"Friends or family in the service?"

"No."

"Any reason that you are joining?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Any items you need?"

"That _damn fourth chaos emerald…"_ Shadow muttered under his breath. After _all_ that time, he still hadn't found it yet...

"That what?"

"Oh, no. Nothing," Shadow snapped back

" _Now hear this. Now hear this: Elevator has been disabled,"_ barked a voice from hidden intercoms over his head. Almost immediately after, another announcement came on: _"Platoon number seven five zero six, please report to Receiving Room eight, on floor two."_

"You'd better go, sir," the woman said, jotting down a few notes while shaking her head.

Shadow recognized his number and dashed out the room and down the stairs at high speed. Above him, people were scrambling down, a select few taking their time at a mere brisk pace. He found floor two and pushed the door open with his body, wrapping around it and holding it open for the people who were now falling down the stairs. Humans and anthros alike ran through the door in a blind panic, a few simply jogging through and giving Shadow a nod as they passed. He let the door go and turned to join the rest of the thirty or so people now in the room.

The recruits formed a half circle around one man in a uniform of dark blue and white. He stood silently, waiting while everyone gathered around him. As Shadow joined with what he presumed was his group, the man spoke. "Hello. I am Sergeant White - just refer to me as Sarge for now. I am here to get you to G.U.N basic training. Any questions before we step off?"

No one spoke and a few shook their heads.

"Good, now let's get moving!"

X-X

 **Central City, 2000 hours**

Shadow had been one of the first on the bus, with Sergeant White answering many anxious humans' questions.

"How long will basic take?"

"When would we be deployed?"

"Will there be marksmanship?"

 _Hmph, humans._

The bus was nearly empty, with only one, young looking man sitting in the middle and twiddling his thumbs. Shadow prepared to sit away from him, in the back, but upon closer inspection there were labels. _Shadow_ and _Adamusik_ shared seats.

Shadow, as calmly as possible, sat gingerly on the edge of the bus seat, half hanging off the edge. The human looked to his right, towards Shadow's comedic act and chuckled, "Hey man, no need for that. I won't bite or anything."

Shadow froze, caught in the gaze of the human.

 _What am I doing?_

He scooched over, fully in the seat now, his thigh occasionally touching the long-named man's. The young man extended his hand out between them. "Hey, my name's Adamusik - just call me Adam." Shadow shook Adam's hand firmly, and met his eyes, even if only for a second. Usually, you'd be lucky if Shadow would even _look_ at you. The young man continued. "Here for infantry?"

The hedgehog hesitated; had he really thought much about the process of going through? He knew he wanted to have a similar job to Rouge. "No, I plan on being an agent, like a friend of mine."

"Heh, me neither. I just wanna get into comms. Everyone has to go through a three month tour as a grunt though. 'Every G.U.N member a rifleman first,' they say. Also, it'll be hard for you to get there. That's like at the top of the Special Forces."

"Three months? Huh, it'll be a while before I can make a real difference then."

Adam raised an eyebrow and the superhero talk, but then remembered he was talking to an anthro hedgehog. Many had powers, and after reading the newspaper _once_ , he'd learned that a single hedgehog could save the world.

As other people started to board the bus, the ambient noise became louder, and Adamusik felt slightly more comfortable to speak. "So, why are you in here?"

He did not answer. Conversation at the moment was not sought after, as per usual. Adam however, wasn't having any of it. "Closed up, eh? If it helps, I'm in here for work experience. Planning on getting into a good college."

Frozen, Shadow turned his head towards the young man, confused. "You're going into G.U.N so you can go to school?"

"Yeah, of course. Didn't know that it made it easy to get into one?"

Shadow looked at the bus floor, staring. "No, I didn't..."

"Woah," Adam laughed. "Mate, you been living under a rock for the past thirty years? Everyone knows about it, you an immigrant? Where were you born?"

Going into a military, trained to kill and go to war… _is a way to get into school?_

 _Disgusting._

Shadow flashed back to all of his fights, all of his life or death situations. The shot of adrenaline when the first bullets fly, the discomfort in knowing that any stray attack could kill you, all numbed by the primal instincts that kick in within any living being. Never would he have thought that _anyone_ would willingly subject themselves to these things; the breathtaking, horrific, mental and physical rollercoaster that was combat.

He stayed silent, his mind racing through the madness. Adam thought he might have pushed the wrong button. "Hey, sorry if I was a bit too pushing there, I'll leave you alone," he said, turning his head to the left to look out of the glass window, feeling the bus start to move.

"That's okay, I have citizenship for the United Federation."

Adam turned and faced Shadow, who was still looking at the floor. "They owned the Ark, didn't they?"

Adam's eyes widened, and under his breath he muttered a silent apology and turned back to the window, attempting to sleep for the seemingly long journey.

X-X

 _Now you remember what the draft man said; nothing to do all day but stay in bed_

 _You're in the Army now. Woah, oh, you're in the Army now._

 _You'll be the hero of the neighbourhood; nobody knows that you've left for good_

 _You're in the Army now. Woah, oh, you're in the Army now._

 _\- Status Quo, "In the Army Now", In the Army Now, 1986_


	5. Chapter IV - Arriving

_We did as we were told, we bought and sold._

 _\- Roger Waters, "Amused to Death", 1992_

X-X

 **Frankfurt, Germany, 0500 hours, EDT time**

Like Central City and Station Square, they kept their breaths short and choppy to avoid sucking in too much air. Ever since they were children, they grew to love the wild jungles and forests of the Caribbean Islands. Sonic the Hedgehog on Christmas Island, and Miles Prower on West Side Island. There, the air was nothing but pure. However, cities were different. The exhaust from automobiles plumed out from the streets, factory smokestacks billowed smoke and ash into the atmosphere. Worst of all was the unexplainable sweet smell that hung in the air constantly. Tails suggested that it was possible that it could be jet fuel, but there were no airports in Central City.

Sonic sat on a bench, facing the street where loud and quiet cars alike were slowly progressing, in a constant dance of stop and go. Red light green light. Rush and halt.

He hunched over, breathing close to his own body to lessen the scent of the city. His eyes focused on the blank sky, factory clouds blocking out the little moonlight that Europe offered.

"Jeez, how long we have to wait? I don't want to spend a minute longer in this place," he said.

Tails stopped pacing in front of him and put his hands behind his back. "I know, I don't either. But they said they had to inspect the plane for dangers so that would be an hour, then they said they would have to refuel it themselves so that's another fifteen minutes, knowing them."

" _An hour!?"_ He threw his hands up in the air. "I know we've had to tag along with Amy on some shopping trips, but Station Square is like freaking _Green Grass Zone_ compared to this!"

"Well, we can't just sit here and do nothing for an hour and a half," Tails said. "Let's go find something to do! Besides, I don't think we've been to Germany before."

He stayed silent a second, thinking of activities. Usually, it would take a few seconds to decide what to do next. Run through the forest, wrestle in the grass, play catch with an apple. Was nature all he could think about? What _else_ was interesting?

Leaping in the air, Tails hovered with his namesakes. "I know! Frankfurt is like the financial centre of all of Europe; we could have a look around in the shops and see what cool stuff they have!"

"So we're going... _shopping?"_ he asked, inwardly questioning his brother's sanity.

"Sure, why not?" Tails said. Sonic stood up, patting his bottom of whatever was on the bench.

"Alright, I guess we're going shopping. Not like I could have thought of something better, heh."

X-X

Skyline Plaza was a marvel to behold. The towers outside stretched to the skies, needles on the top blinking to an imperceptible rhythm that only the planes in the sky and the computers inside could hear. A thin layer of smog created a ceiling that topped off the spike pit of residential and office towers. Breaking through the smog behind the Plaza was Tower 385, punching a hole into the ceiling and expanding once through, and a ring of offices and apartments loomed over the entire display. The building itself was like an ocean, walls never straight, but always flowing into another endless series of waves.

And flying from the front of each building was the Prussian blue, marble white, and midnight black of the German flag, fighting the wind as it blew from side to side. The Iron Cross and Federation Star shared one side of the Prussian blue slate, and were seemingly fighting each other for dominance of symbolism. The pride of the German Empire, or the nationalism of the United Federation? The military of Prussia, or the economic progress of the father state? The lives lost for the Blue, White, and Black; or the lives created by the Red, Blue, and White?

Inside were an unprecedented arrangement of shops and spas inside the rainbow colored glass building, making the journey inside almost _endless._ Like two mirrors in front of each other.

"Wow, look at all of this! There's-"

" _So many shops! So many people!"_

Sonic shook his head. "There's no freaking way we're gonna go through all of that."

Tails blew his bangs out of his face, ears wiggling. "Fastest thing alive can't make a little grocery run?"

"Oh, you're _on!"_

On one side of the massive hallway alone were at least a hundred stores, each with almost the same things. Clothing: shirts, pants, undergarments. Merchandise: Flags, helmets, toy guns. Food: Bratwurst, Sprat, Pancakes, beers of all kinds.

"Thank you for coming to _Shop 035B,_ how can I help you?" a cashier said. Sonic heaved an armload of bags onto the counter.

" _All_ of this stuff, please!" he said, slightly muffled by a pillow, the German flag stitched into the fiber.

"That would be ninety Federation Francs, please." He swiped his card down the machine, and the transaction was made seamlessly. A beep came from behind the woman.

"Thank you. Please come again."

"Thanks, lady! Oh, by the way," he reached in his quills and tossed a stack of cash in her arms. "Keep the change."

The cashier's knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Sonic could hear her suppressed tears and sobs from out in the lobby.

Tails found out that you could bring a cart along to help carry your items, and grabbed himself one. The vehicle was electrically powered, and could be driven either manually or by remote control. It could also be set to follow or lead you automatically. A drone and a buggy. The specifications at the desk said it had a carrying capacity of three hundred kilos.

They wandered around some more, shocked to find that the cart followed them up the escalator going to the fifth floor. Once they were there, they were further dumbstruck by the pure size of the mall. Looking down one way would reveal the curvature of the Planet. It literally went on for _miles._

This floor contained automobiles. Mostly of German origin, but there were some Italian and British cars here and there. Sonic made snarks at the clerks of each dealership, saying that 'he could run faster' and would proceed to nearly break every single window within a kilometer radius by nearly hitting the sound barrier while screaming _'vroom vroom!'._ What threw him off guard was the deadpanned face of each one of the men in black, who would stare blankly at his stunts no matter how impressive.

"Hey, dude, what do I gotta do to get it through to you that I'm _awesome?"_ he said.

"Buying a car."

They went up one level, which was the last floor. Sonic ran up the escalator, nearly propelling him through the glass ceiling. Tails barely caught him before he came down upon the marble floor. The cart nearly broke itself as well, baggage being thrown every which way as it flew into the air and toppled over.

Widescreen television sets lining an entire wall, the technology floor. Each screen had a single image, however. The news, the same channel that hosted the firefight from yesterday. The scene of a very similar desert land panned across the screen, dead bodies occasionally breaking the empty sand.

Sonic settled on one hip, fist going to his chin.

"Huh. They're still going on about that?" he asked.

"Well, there was a gunfight on international television. I'd assume they'd be talking about it into next week."

"Well, they acted like it happens every single day, yesterday. I wonder what they're babbling about now?"

They walked closer, dodging carts and running shoppers. There was a thirty second deal on a game system a few shops down. They watched as people exchanged punches, and a mother took ahold of the console and bashed someone in the face as a fist flew over her head.

The footage of the war zone was replaced by three news anchors, each sitting around a granite desk.

" _Jumping back to America, Martha, what's to say about the Central City protesters? What are your thoughts theirs? It would be interesting to see the contrast between America and Europe."_

" _Well, why would you be worried? It's not your country being invaded, why get angry about it? Do you want to be invaded? If not, then accept it. We had a good reason to go into the Middle East, and we have a good reason to go into South Africa. To fight evil. Do you like evil? If you do, then go over to those places, because you won't be safe here."_

" _Thank you. Martha Mcintosh and Frauke Pastry everybody. Back to you, Reilly."_

In the mall, the two exchanged looks, each raising an eye ridge. Tails turned around; the way they came.

"...they sound like assholes to me."

"What'd I tell you about words like that?"

X-X

 **Parris Island, 2300 hours**

Shadow awoke, the bus no longer moving, and the world outside the window had become pitch black.

 _Why was I asleep, and why am I tired?_

Suddenly, the lights on the bus snapped on, white light plastering the aisle, seats, and walls. The door opened with a _psssshew_. A man walked up the steps and turned to face down the aisle, his heels together, fists clenched to his sides, body erect and chin raised to the sky.

He had dark green pants and a sheathed sword of some sort. Tucked in said pants was a tan shirt, with three rows of ribbons on the left side of his chest. On his head was a tall hat, with it's brim extending out and around. He started to walk, foot in front of the other, right arm swinging up, parallel to the floor, then back, nearly parallel to the floor again, and continued his march until he reached the back of the bus. Raising his leg off the ground, he turned about and stomped onto the ground. Finished, he drew his sword up to his face.

" _Sir,_ the Gunnery Sergeant reports that the bus is ready for instruction, _sir!"_

The sleeping humans were shaken awake by the man's show. Their faces paled as if they had been held above a thousand mile drop. Adam jumped in his seat at the stomps. There was a very sharp precise response outside the bus.

"Very well, Gunnery Sergeant."

Stomping his way onto the bus was a bald eagle; white head, golden beak and all. The eagle proceeded to address the people on the bus, " _Platoon!_ In your seats, ten.. _hut!_ "

A select few, including Adam, sat upright, back erect with their hands on their knees, looking straight ahead, unmoving. Most others just looked at the eagle, scared and confused. Shadow however, was unfazed by the loud circus act, copied Adam to the best of his ability, slightly disoriented himself, though he would never admit it.

"Well, it seems we have some.." The eagle did not finish his sentence, and with hands behind his back, started walking down the aisle, looking at people. He continued screaming," _... rodents and ignorant scum_ _on this bus!_ Now, would you for the love of _God,_ straighten up your fucking spines, put your hands on your stupid knees, and look at the seat in front of you!"

The whole bus did as was told, but Shadow wasn't unnerved. He hadn't been fazed by an invading species or by being at gunpoint; why should a loud bird concern him?

As the eagle walked past, Shadow shot a glance at his back and confirmed that he was also wearing the same military dress attire as the human.

"At ease.."

The recruits did not respond.

"When I say at ease.. It means to _calm the fuck down!_ "

The recruits dropped their attention to a more relaxed position, but the tension in the bus was still palpable.

The bald eagle turned his head towards the human Sergeant, and immediately turned back. "You, _all_ of you, will now get off my bus! The first three off my bus will get into a column, one behind the other. Do you understand that?"

In a broken unison, the bus chanted, "Yes sir!"

" _No, you say that together! Say it again!"_

" _Yes sir!"_

" _WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? I can't hear you, LOUDER!"_ He shrieked.

Shadow couldn't see the hysterical bird, and he could only imagine that his face was red flushed red in anger, and hot steam was erupting from his ears.

"Once the first three have gotten into a column, they will then put their left arm up, do you understand that?"

"Yes sir!"

"After that, everyone else put their shoulder to the other person's fingers, and put their own arm up, do you understand that?"

"Yes sir!"

" _Now get the fuck off my bus!"_

Getting up, Shadow dashed down the aisle and jumped off, not bothering to waste time on the steps. He saw the rear of the formation had fewer people, and jogged over, snapping to the position of attention he assumed was correct, and raised his left arm after getting in line with the person on his right. Adam trailed him, bumping into his backpack as he passed.

 _Okay, he'll no doubt be focussing on the front line, so we shouldn't-_

His thought was interrupted by a very angry bald eagle. "What the fuck you people think you're getting away with? _Antisocial?_ It's called the _United_ Federation, retards!" The bird speed-walked, hunched over with face full of fury. He passed in front of the third rank of the formation and walked over to Shadow, turning to face him. "You, what's your name!?"

"Shadow the Hedgehog, sir."

The eagle straightened his back and growled, "First, when you address someone by yourself, you start and end your statement with _sir._ Second…"

One moment, he was staring into the face of a very angry instructor. The next he was looking at the pavement, a slap to the side of the face sending his head snapping around. What he heard next was screaming.

" _What the fuck are you speaking, Private, baby language!? I can't fucking hear you!_ I'll ask one more time, _WHAT IS YOUR NAME!?"_

Without thinking, he recovered and screamed back. " _SIR, SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG, SIR!"_

"SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG? Why, that is the gayest name I have ever heard in my _fucking life!_ From now on, I will call you _Private Stripes_ , do you like that name?"

"Sir, no, sir!"

That answer was met with another slap to the face.

"Yes you do, faggot! You know what, you aren't even _worthy_ of the name Private! From now on, I will call you _Faggot_ Stripes! Now, I ask again, _DO YOU LIKE THAT NAME?_ "

"Sir, yes, sir!"

 _Well, that was something new._

Shadow had never been… verbally attacked like that before. Of course, he'd known that that kind of yelling would be commonplace here, but it still struck him as a bit shocking; not only the volume, but also the _passion_ behind the noise. It was like he was born and raised in the art of voice as a weapon. Nothing the battle-hardened hedgehog couldn't handle, however.

The Eagle stepped off and stomped in front of Adam.

"You, what's your name?"

"Sir, Adamusik, sir!"

"ADAMUSIK? God fucking damnit, I _knew_ Poland was a mistake! Do you agree with me, sir Auschwitz?

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Do you suck dicks?"

"Sir no sir!"

"Ohh, yes you do! I bet you're the kind of faggot to fuck someone in the ass and not even have the common courtesy to give them a reach around! And what are you, a _furry?_ Why the fuck are you surrounded by animals? I bet you'd like to have Stripes next to you in your bunk, all cuddly and shit! _I'll be watching you, queer!"_

The instructor of fury was off again, now addressing the front rank of the formation of scared people. Shadow looked to his left, and Adam looked to his right.

"Heh," Adam snorted, Shadow returned the friendly expression of humor.

 _Rouge is probably watching right now. She's writing her own interpretation as we speak._

Then, the human Gunnery Sergeant stepped in front of the platoon, and started to speak. _Rapidly._

" _Now,_ we will march to the equipment area. Putyourfistsagaintsyourtrouserseamsandraiseyourchinhigh, with yourfeetatfortyfivedegreeangles. When you turn, youwillpivotononefootandwhenyoubringyourfeetbacktogetheryouwillstompitbackintoplace, do you understand?"

A few shook their heads, a few didn't respond.

"Yes you do, now, _platoon, left... TURN!"_

Shadow and the rest of the recruits lazily pivoted left ninety degrees, raised their legs, and placed them back on the ground.

"You all will learn how to drill eventually, now, _by the left, quick march!_ "

The platoon of recruits started to walk forward in a column, in a robot march of left in front of right. Hunched backs were whacked with the guard of the instructors sword while the human chanted the quick march cadence. Seemingly into the blind night, the world outside the parade completely silent. Only crickets showed any sign of life. As well as the other bugs that seemed they would only avoid the instructors. Flying into the eyes of each and every man and woman.

X-X

' _What the fuck are you even doing here?'_

' _Sir! I got lost on the way to college, sir!'_

 _\- Jarhead, 2005_


	6. Chapter V - Headache

" _When I arrived in Beirut from Europe, I felt the oppressive, damp heat, saw the unkempt palm trees and smelt the Arabic coffee, the fruit stalls and the over-spiced meat. It was the beginning of the Orient. And when I flew back to Beirut from Iran, I could pick up the British papers, ask for a gin and tonic at any bar, choose a French, Italian, or German restaurant for dinner. It was the beginning of the West. All things to all people, the Lebanese rarely questioned their own identity."  
\- Robert Fisk, Pity the Nation: The Abduction of Lebanon_

X-X

He thought about jumping out of the plane and knocking the G.U.N jet fighter out of the sky with a supersonic homing attack to the cockpit. They had been orbiting above Beirut-Rafic Hariri International Airport for more than two hours, being checked out by numerous ground inspections, a drone inspection, and now, a mandatory escort for 30 laps around the airstrip. The drone of the Tornado was drowned out by the twin jets of the Dassault Rafale behind them, the beastly roar overtook all other senses. Vibration in his chest, the emptiness and tugging of his quills thanks to the massive air intakes of the fighter.

It would also be the last noise he ever heard if the men on the ground thought there was something up with their plane. A single surface to air missile straight from the anti-aircraft emplacements around the airfield would vaporize the small plane. As well as the Rafale could just rip them apart with its gatling gun.

No pressure.

" _Argh!"_ Sonic groaned, just loud enough for his pilot to hear. _"If we're being stalked for more than 15 more minutes, then I'm jumping!"_

Tails didn't look back, instead focusing on the comms in his right ear coming from ATT.

"It's a war zone, Sonic. You have to take precautions. Besides, we'll probably get tons of apologies once we got on the ground, anyway. 'So sorry for making the great Sonic the Hedgehog wait! How about another thousand U.F dollars for your troubles?'"

Said hedgehog rolled his eyes, and picked up the headset from the footwell, dawning it over his ears. The chatter heard through the comms was unintelligible to him.

" _STH0002, please allow drone to scan for IEDs or CEDs."_

" _ATT this is STH0002, leveling off,"_ said Tails.

He turned around towards the trailing jet, it's beak nose staring him down. Hasn't moved an inch from where he left it. He became confused, and decided to ask the smarter of the siblings.

"Hey," he said into his brother's ear, leaning forward over in his seat. "What are they talking about?"

"They're checking our footwells for explosives and other stuff that we could use to damage people," he said, making sure he didn't say anything potentially suspicious. The ATT was still listening.

"With _what_ though? I can't see this drone they're talking about," Sonic said, looking up at the blank blue sky.

"You're looking at it," Tails said.

"But there's nothing there!"

"Exactly."

Uneasiness suddenly coursed through his veins. There was someone above them looking down into their cockpits and they couldn't even see them? Or was it an invisible drone that is crawling around at their feet as they spoke? Sonic drew his knees to his chin and closed his eyes, not wanting to think.

Once on the ground, there was an impossibly long line of tourists and soldiers alike. His heart sank; the fastest thing alive was expected to slowly shuffle forwards over the course of an hour or even more.

This was gonna suck.

At the front of the line they were subjected to a full body search. A guard took hold of his arm and tugged him into a metal detector, then forced off his gloves, socks, shoes. Even the cute bowtie that Cream made for him upon his departure was confiscated. His quills went stiff. A female guard patted him down, being very dileberate and slow coming down to his lower regions…

"You're done," she robotically said, and slapped his behind to signal his departure. His things were given back to him by another guard and Tails was searched as well.

They were led to a security room, the walls blank in marble white. A single doctor was inside.

"Good evening, what are your names respectively?"

"Sonic, Sonic the Hedgehog."

"Miles Prower."

They handed their passports over to her, where she flipped through them briefly.

"Both of you are born Mobians?"

"Yes, with United Federation citizenship."

"Miles Prower is your legally adopted little sibling?"

"That is correct."

She nodded, then reached into a drawer behind her. The air was stiff with silence as she donned a pair elastic gloves. It might has well have been a whip's crack. A sweat dropped from Tails' forehead.

It clicked in his head, and Sonic shared the nervousness with his brother. He convinced himself, however. It was the sake for security. Even if it is a massive invasion of privacy. And dignity.

And virginity.

But lives are being saved with this.

Right?

X-X

He would file a lawsuit when he got back home.

But now wasn't the time to fret over it; sexual harassment would be the least of his worries with traffic as bad as this. Cars going every which way, in every single lane. Cars parked in the middle of the street. Cars moving at over a hundred miles an hour. Cars forming a literal roadblock.

The sound of metal hitting metal swept the world around them, and Sonic turned to see cars in the _sky._

Hero instincts told him to see if they were okay, and he sped across the sidewalk, only to stop when each driver got out of each car and started throwing punches. It was a spectacle: a fistfight in the middle of the street while Ladas and Mercedes dodge them at near motor racing speeds. He checked the road signs. There were no speed limits on them.

He took his brother's hand and weaved through the traffic at subsonic speeds. He had just gotten out of the airport, how could chaos already be unfolding? His brother's eyes were more observant than his.

"Half of these cars are G.U.N!" Tails exclaimed. And he was right. The beastly armored vehicle that seemed to push civilian cars out of the way with brute force alone bore not only the Federation Star on their doors, but a heavily caliber machinegun mounted on the top that seemed to be controlled from the inside. Through bulletproof glass, he caught a glimpse of a G.U.N Trooper. His helmet featured a black visor, and a black balaclava under it. The uniform itself could barely be called such, more like a flight suit. The rifle could be seen, the trooper holding it as if in a combat zone.

 _Oh wait. This_ _is_ _a combat zone._

They sped through the streets, dodging cars, MRAPs, tracked vehicles, and even main battle tanks. The culture and language of the locals were obvious, and at a glance it would be easy to group the G.U.N troopers together. However, they noticed some military cars had English words and letters written across them, while others bore Cyrillic, and even Mandarin. Divides between those who divide. However, looking at the soldiers themselves revealed nothing. Purely a warrior. A black face and a black rifle. Barring no identity at all.

They zoom eastwards, thinking that there would be more to be helped there. Soon, sonic booms could be heard in the air as G.U.N aircraft head towards what presumably are targets on the front line. A helicopter rose from behind a building, and started orbiting around the two brothers as they progressed through the city. A door gunner had his gatling gun trained on them, as if he was told that _they_ were the terrorists. Waiting for a single wrong move to pump each of them full of 6.5mm Caseless.

A break in the chaos, a roadblock. One man had a helmet different from the rest, almost a plasticy grey with a boom microphone in front of his face. A pair of what looked like low profile virtual reality goggles were over his eyes. _He must be the leader…_

They stopped their speeding and started to walk towards him, their approach made more awkward and tense on every step as he watches through his goggles. Upon closer inspection, his face is painted pale white, showing almost no features under them. His identity as masked as the rest of the faceless troopers.

"Excuse me, sir," Sonic says, his hands behind his back. He learned a thing or two about approaching officers watching _Generation Kill_.

"I'm Sonic, Sonic the Hedgehog. I'm sure you've heard of me before. Basically I'm here to help with the counterinsurgency situation going on here, so…"

He hasn't thought this through past the 'find someone important' step, and it showed. If the officer could have raised an eyebrow, it would have been in the sky. Heat rushed to his cheeks. Thankfully, Tails wasn't as awkward as he.

"Basically we've heard that we could help deal with the insurgency, by finding the people you're looking for and handling them without anyone getting hurt! We understand it takes a lot of work to keep people safe, so, what can we do?"

His smile dropped after a long silence. Silver bars of the goggles like shields against Tails' sparkling eyes. Childlike innocence was almost unknown to this man. However, he had at least acknowledged him.

He spoke into his microphone. "Company? This is 1st Platoon. Could you come over for a minute? Have some people that need some help. Over."

" _Alpha this is company. Sending my sergeant, I'm busy. Over."_

"This is Alpha, solid copy. Over and out."

The man sighed, and checked his rifle.

"Listen up you two. You're Sonic the Hedgehog, and you're Tails. Everyone here knows you. I'm sure you're not surprised by that."

Sonic nodded, letting a slightly smug smirk emerge.

"What you probably don't know, and probably don't _want_ to know, is that everyone here hates you."

That smirked dropped.

"Now, we won't turn down help, we all know how effective you guys are. But just be careful."

They nodded, and offered both of their hands, which he shook firmly.

"I'm no big officer, by the way. Just an Lt, call me Left."

They waited, not saying a word. The trailing helicopter had since left, but another passed overhead. Missiles mounted on metal pylons and a giant gatling cannon under the nose. Jets flying everywhere. It was just now that they realized how _hot_ it was. Sweat formed and stickied their fur as they wait in the middle of the city, despite the fact that it was a full moon, and _night._ A family dressed in all white walked by, their heads always lower than straight. Anticipating a bomb to be dropped anywhere at any time.

Another man came up, definitely GUN, but not in the standard kit like the rest. Instead of an isolated suit with combat vests and computerized visors, he had a beret on his head, cyan blue with a golden badge. A button up BDU with medals in orderly columns on his left breast. _This_ one was an officer.

Sonic offered a handshake, and so did Tails. The man towered over them, creating the only shadow they had been in all day. Was it suddenly slightly cooler?

He turned his head to the Lt. "Were these the boys that wanted me, Fry?"

"Yessir. Both of them."

"I hoped this day wouldn't come," the big man said, rolling his eyes. Out of necessity alone, he shook the two's hands. Rolling a hip, Sonic bit back.

"What do you mean, _'hoped this day wouldn't come'_?" he said.

"I _mean_ I hoped I'd never have to let you two furry hippies approach me and ask me for _anything._ Now before I rip you fags in two, I suggest you ask away."

Now that hurt. Going on the defensive, Sonic's teeth clenched, and his quills straightened. "What makes you think you can say that and get away with it?"

Crossing his arms, the officer spat on the concrete. The saliva evaporated in seconds. "I might not. But the rest of the company certainly will. And if they catch you, they're gonna _fuck you."_

Okay. Enough's enough. They looked into each other's eyes. Hedgehog and human. They took note of each other, only one knowing the other's strengths and weaknesses. The price of fame. Sonic and Tails shared a glance at each other, and had second thoughts.

Until a crack in their ears sent them ducking for cover.

X-X

 **Parris Island, 2308 hours**

"Platoon."

This was the first word spoken in a whole of five minutes, which was strange considering the previous communication that had taken place. Shadow kept walking, preparing to do anything.

" _Halt._ "

On the command of execution, people attempted to stop - some doing it the proper way and others running into the person in front of them. A circus, almost, and the Gunnery Sergeant was quite amused.

"Oh boy, a lot of work for me to do this year. At ease everyone. Everybody see this door behind me?"

" _Yes sir!"_ the platoon chanted.

"Good." The trooper pointed at the rightmost column of recruits. "You go first, get into a single file line outside the door, and everyone else fall in behind them. Go."

The first column walked up to the door, and waited for the rest to move behind them.

"Okay, now, there are bins in here. Everybody get behind your own bin and hold your bag in front of you." He took Shadow's bag off his shoulders, and held it infront of his chest. "Like this, got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

He handed Shadow's bag back, and motioned for people to start walking in.

It had been relatively quiet on the journey from the bus, and the bald eagle hadn't done anything of note. Shadow crossed into the building, his ears bombarded with rusty screeches.

" _Hurry the fuck up, snails! Run, run I said! Get yourself a bin and stay behind it, scumbags!_ " The bald eagle pushed over a woman as he barged into the building, voice roaring like a gun firing.

Shadow powered his Chaos skates and skated to a bin, holding out his bag.

" _Great_ job Stripes, here's a fucking ribbon for your sacrifice to the nation!"

 _I can't let him get to me. That's all he's trying to do. If I keep my head in the game and don't budge, I'll be fine._

"Okay maggots, listen up and listen good, cause I'm not repeating _anything,_ and if I do..." He proceeded to grab someone by their shirt, and pull him in close. Normally, anthros would be short, at most 200 centimeters. This bird, however, stretched to the moon.

" _IT'LL PROBABLY LOOK LIKE THIS!_ " the bird yelled and spit into the poor soul's face, releasing his grip from the man's shirt.

Shadow kept his eyes dead forward, keeping as calm as possible.

"Okay, any clothing other than underwear and socks, drop on the ground next to you. The only other clothes you are allowed to keep are what's on you right now."

His voice peaked. He wasn't _hitting_ the high notes, he was beating them with a baseball bat.

' _Oh, but Sarge, I took this Pink Floyd t-shirt just for PT_!' This isn't fucking summer camp, this is _Basic Combat and Advanced Individual Training!_ If you want a shorter name because of the fact you lost a few chromosomes at birth: _Welcome to Hell!_ "

Shadow eyed the men and women around him, who were pulling entire closet's worth of shirts and jeans out of their bags and onto the concrete floor. He considered himself lucky that he had only brought one pair of extra gloves.

" _Next_ , any money you have on you, any personal information, credit cards, anything of that kind you throw into the bin in front of you!" A few dropped wallets into the plastic containers in front of them. " _Next,_ any cell phones, will go in the bin. You will _not_ make a _single_ phone call while you are on _my_ island, do you understand me?"

" _Yes sir!"_ they chanted.

People's smartphones and tablets were dropped into the bins. Shadow kept his watch secured tightly to his wrist, knowing that the maniac would not think twice about it.

" _Now,_ oh my goodness me, _now_ ; if you have any weapons, raise your hands."

Shadow felt a cold sweat form on his skin, chilling him to the bone. It wasn't often that he was nervous, but now, it was comparable to announcing his position to Godzilla. His hand went up.

" _Faggot Stripes! You insecure fuck!"_

The bird of prey was screaming things that were unrecognizable, and was making his way towards Shadow. Each stomp vibrated through the floor and up his legs, and the vibrations grew stronger the closer he came.

 _Stay calm, he's just here to scare me, nothing has done that and lived through it._

He stopped just short of poking his beak into Shadow's head. "Stripes, you are the first, the _first_ recruit I have had in all my decades of training rodents and scumbags to _ever_ have the _nerve_ and _lack of it_ to bring a weapon onto my island! Tell me, what is the weapon you have!?"

"Sir, a forty-four magnum, sir."

"GIVE ME YOUR BAG STRIPES SO I CAN SEE!"

The bird seemed more like a monster to the recruitment group as he grabbed Shadow's bag and tore through its meagre contents.

"You liar, you have bullets, but no _gun!_ _Where is your gun?_ "

"Sir, in my quills sir!"

" _SAY WHAT?"_

He tore into Shadow's spiked head and ripped out the gun, flung the chamber open, and found six loaded rounds in each slot.

"Good _God..._ "

He looked up from the gun and glared into Shadow's eyes. He murmured, just loud enough for Shadow to hear him, _"You are the most insecure, childish, and worthless piece of shit I have ever seen come across..."_ Then the screaming started. "You.. you are the _dumbest living being to ever_ come into G.U.N! FAGGOT STRIPES! I HAVE ONE QUESTION FOR YOU!"

Shadow managed not to change his tone. "Sir!"

" _ **Who the fuck had to die for you to carry around a loaded gun!?**_ You've got enough ammo to take on every goddamn hajji on this planet! I ask you one more time, _**WHO DIED?**_ "

Shadow's eyes widened, and he had to take a step back. Images of her, the light blue dress and blonde hair of Maria Robotnik flashed before his eyes. He saw her faint, comforting smile as she leaned on the lever.

And he saw the gun pointed at her back.

"Shadow the Hedgehog… _Shadow the fucking Hedgehog!_ If you will not answer my question, I will! _We killed your little whore of a sister!_ We went up on that Space Colony, and we shot every soul who you could have ever trusted- and guess what you did about that? You teamed up with an obese doctor and you tried to kill off the whole planet, but _you couldn't do that!_ You pussied out! And then you went and died, but you couldn't even do that! _You can't do anything right Stripes, you can't keep your own morals, you can't kill,_ _ **you can't even die right!**_ I should take this shitty gun of yours, _and shoot you right now!"_

Shadow was overtaken by a tint of red, and the only world he knew was between him, and the military bird in front of him. A black curtain was lowered over his vision.

Instead of a storage room, he saw the Ark.

Instead of a bird in Charlies, he saw a blue uniformed G.U.N. trooper with a pistol to Maria's head.

Bile rose from his traumatic past, and bloodlust he thought he'd overcome returned to him.

"You go ahead and try, _I am bulletproof,_ " Shadow growled, ears flattening, eyes twitching, and shoulders tensed. He was wound up like a spring.

The instructor raised the handgun and fired, recoil launching the steel bull up into the air. People screamed and covered their ears, and even the human instructor flinched at the gun shot. Shadow felt a sting in his shoulder confirming that he had been hit. The Ultimate Lifeform raised his hand and held the flattened .44 caliber bullet on the surface of his skin, under his fur. He raised it in between two fingers, and threw it on the ground.

"You may think you do, but you do _not_ know who I am. Speak another word of her, and you will regret it..."

Apart from the ringing in his ears, Shadow heard silence, and stared down his opponent. The instructor raised his chin turned around, and gave a thumbs down to the Gunnery Sergeant. The man nodded and took a radio off his belt and spoke into it.

"This is seven five zero six requesting a code gold, repeat, code gold. Out."

 _They just called security. That'll be fine, that's enough noise I've made._

The instructor's beak turned back to him, and nodded. "I never _doubted_ you'd be bulletproof, Faggot Stripes, not one bit," he said, turning the gun around in his hands, holding it with the barrel facing him.

"You'll make a _fine_ trooper, Stripes. If you would forgive me…"

Shadow held back a smirk. In barely half an hour, he had turned a maniac who seemingly grew up screaming into an honest man.

 _Yes. I am the top gun in the room, and I am the one who would come out on top of the rest-_

His entire train of thought derailed once a faint hum was picked up by his ears; for sure a lower frequency than anything a human would hear. Shadow collapsed on the ground, looking for air that wasn't there. He struggled to stop breakfast he didn't remember eating from projecting out of his mouth. Chaos energy spilled out into the world around him like a shattering cup. His knees buckled, as if their construction had been torn down from the ground up. He was reduced to a crouch, straining up to look at his instructor.

Shadow was thrown to the ground, his revolver brought down onto the side of his skull. His head bounced off the hard, concrete floor and was hit again. After the third hit, pain went away and each blow was numb. His ears popped, and he could feel no more; his Chaos energy lost to the cold and featureless world around him. The bird got down onto the ground, face to face with his victim.

"Faggot Stripes! I have known you for thirty minutes, and I already know about eighty different ways of tearing you a new asshole! I have been in this force longer than God Almighty has been creating steers and queers for me to reinforce!"

Then he stood back up, and a hand went to his beak. His mouth opened and eyes rolled up towards the sky, like the man in the high place was telling him something.

"Actually, it looks like God is retiring. Faggot Stripes, you may as well consider me your _God,_ because I am going to tear you the _fuck_ apart, and put you back together, _repaired._ And guess what, faggot? _You're gonna thank me._ "

Shadow's consciousness drifted away after divine right was claimed over his body.

X-X

" _You little scumbag! I got your name! I got your ass! You will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers! I will teach you! Now get up! Get on your feet! You had best unfuck yourself, or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!"_

 _\- Stanley Kubrick's "Full Metal Jacket", 1987_


	7. Chapter VI - Things Left Unspoken

Glancing at his coffee before sipping, Gunnery Sergeant Nepton made sure there were no bugs inside. The humid environment wasn't favorable for hot drinks, but Gunny preferred not to use drugs when keeping himself awake. His partner however, used small doses of epinephrine to keep himself up, and it made turned him into a killing machine when training season started. Nepton swallowed the hot substance before he could notice how hot it was, and looked at the eagle, who was eyeing Shadow; left unconscious on the ground. The rest of the platoon was already asleep in their bunks, but all that was left was the hedgehog in the cargo area.

"Hartmann, don't you think that was harsh, even by your standards, or at least, a little early? You usually end up doing that kind of shit on week two, even then no one gets their ass beat to a concussion."

Anthro Sergeant Hartmann lifted his beak from the hedgehog and leveled it towards the human.

"No, I have my reasons."

"Yes. What are they?"

A snort.

"First, he's Shadow the Hedgehog. He's been with that Blue Blur too long; he's used to being a lone wolf fighter, with one or two partners. Because of that, he becomes overconfident in his own abilities, meaning he won't do as well with team members, meaning we need hit him harder."

Gunny nodded his head suspiciously.

"Second, we're on a rush, I know you're aware."

Nepton sighed. "Of course, the invasion."

"Right, we have to get these guys out into combat readiness in four fewer weeks."

The man dropped his coffee on the counter with a thud, liquid bouncing out of the cup.

"Sarge."

"What is it Gunny?"

Fingers ran through his hair in discomfort. "We both know that's not enough. They're gonna be in infantry roles, Hart. I'm worried that they won't have the discipline to think while under fire."

The bird of prey turned back to Shadow. "I am too, apart from Stripes here. The hog went through a lot of fighting and shooting before, so there's no worry about him screaming for his mother. The rest of em' though, they might freeze when the hajjis start shooting."

Gunny already knew all this; it had happened before. Last time there was a threat as serious as the one in South Africa, it was when the Black Arms had invaded the world. Mobius had stood its ground well with the help of the Mobian Defense Forces, but the United Federation had fared differently. Both the President and G.U.N Commander had not seen the requirement to send in the best of troops, and rather opted for brute force, thinking that using conventional tactics based on suppression and fire superiority would not work against the minds of the invasive species.

The 'City Guards', as they were named, were meant to be a glorified police force during it's creation. But during the Black Arms crisis, they and the G.U.N Air Force were the ones doing all of the work, which wasn't much. The Guards were nicknamed 'Three Week Wonders' by the rest of G.U.N, it was the only training they got. Many of them had not even fired a rifle before when they were thrusted into Central City and Westopolis to fight the invading aliens.

Many men and women dropped their weapons and ran, while others hid behind cover at the mere glare of an alien. The ones who did stand their ground did not have the coordination to defeat their enemy, and ended up either dead or dying. The G.U.N Air Force attempted to use their fighter-bombers to make air strikes on the enemy, but the Black Arms did not hesitate to dominate the skies early in the invasion. The defense was a disaster, not only in Central City and Westopolis on the East Coast, but also in London, Berlin, Stockholm, Paris, and other Western European capitals.

Nepton tried to picture Shadow in a combat situation, an ambush, where his powers would be taken away. He was required to look through all the incoming recruit's papers, and he found the Ultimate Lifeform's both the most interesting and most concerning.

"We need to teach him how to fight without his powers if the team he's in is to stand a chance," he said. An understatement. If Shadow were to fail, an entire platoon would meet their fate with the forces of Boko Haram.

"That we do, and I think I have a few ways of doing just that."

Nodding, Nepton's attention went to the hedgehog, who was sprawled on the floor.

" _Let's get him into his bunk, for fuck's sake."_

X-X

 **Beirut, Lebanon, 0107 hours.**

Squinting his eyes, Sonic tried to identify silhouettes across the river, lying on his stomach just inside a low ditch. On the other side was the city, and it seemed things over there weren't exactly going well. Snaps formed in the air like a whip's crack, and occasionally a ' _peww!'_ would indicate that he had been narrowly missed by a bullet, piece of debris, anything would have certainly hurt if he wasn't lucky enough to be out of its path.

He had signalled Tails to land the Tornado upon realization that the town could very well be a danger to anything in the air, no longer his eyes in the sky. Sand started to dig its way into the hedgehog's cobalt blue fur as he shuffled forward to get a better look at the men, who seemed to be doing nothing. They pranced around in the street, occasionally disappearing into a building only to come out again. However, Sonic's vision isn't exactly 20/20 after running at excessively high speeds, so he couldn't notice details. He saw Tails and a GUN Trooper, who had volunteered for the job. They ducked behind a low wall, the rifleman peeking the corner and marked possible targets for himself. Sonic zoomed over to them, patting the soldier on the shoulder.

"There are some guys across the river, on the street there," he said, pointing in the direction of the men.

"Yeah… yeah I see 'em, hedgie. They don't look armed; what's your plan? I can't exactly talk back to you, so order away."

Peeking his head around the edge, Sonic got a better view of the other side. Another shot, but this time no crack. It was being fired away from them.

" _AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"_

Although it was faint, the trio's ears recognized the all too familiar sound of a person screaming at the top of their lungs, either in pain or fear.

Sonic's face hardened. People were no doubt getting hurt in there, something he would not stand for. "We're gonna go in there. Tails, you'll be up with me. Gunman, hang back a few paces behind us in case we get into trouble."

"Copy."

"Alright!"

There was a road on their left, which led them to a bridge, which crossed over the rather wide river. There were cars on the bridge, most of them abandoned, and parked rather haphazardly. It was no problem for the heroes to vault the obstacles, but Sonic couldn't help but wonder why they were there.

The gunner positioned himself behind the wheel of a car, looking over the hood down the road.

"I'm gonna keep my eyes on those guys as you get close. Once you do, my focus goes down the MSR," he said.

Without any questions, Sonic turned towards the men he saw earlier. Zooming across into cover, Tails and him approached the men, who seemed to be taking things a little calm for what was happening just a few blocks behind them.

"Hey, guys," he waved at the men, and someone who looked to be the leader turned around, and opened his arms, like he was regretting inviting a guest. Although slightly annoyed, Sonic persisted.

"There were some gunshots and screams coming from not too far from here, and since it doesn't seem anyone around here is to help, we're gonna try to get things sorted! So why don't we all just move into this house here and…"

The men didn't move, and the leader had a slightly disconcerting grin on his face, as if he was mocking the hero. Was he talking to the wall?

His eyes were blocked by a pair of sunglasses, but a single eyebrow could be seen, raised in anticipation. He nodded, and leaned foreward.

 _Well, this is awkward._

"laqad qutil alkthyr min al'umur ealaa qadamayn. laqad aistaddat 'aydaan alkthyr min alllaebati. wamae dhlk, lm yakun laday alfursat liqatl shay' fi an maeaan. ldhlk, min fadalik, 'iidha kunt la turid rasuk ealaa alhayit alkhass bi fi almunzil, wa'ana 'uqturih ealayk 'an harul beydaan. la yakun almutadarrir, alqunafdh. 'ana yajri nawe huna. muezmna lm yakun l yataraddad fi 'iitlaq alnnar shay' jamil kama 'ant!"

"Erm… _salam alaikum?"_

Sonic felt a sweat drop form on his forehead, and he let out a worried chuckle and an uneasy smile. He turned back to his partner, scratching his quills.

"Hey buddy, little help?"

The fox looked down at his tablet, and tapped a few times on the screen. "I'm working on it… looks like it's in Arabic… There! Have a listen-"

A voice came through the yellow computer's speakers, sounding the same as the man's, but in English instead. As he listened, Sonic wondered if Tails should try the commercial route, selling electronics.

" _I've killed many things on two legs. I have also hunted much game. However, I have never had the opportunity to kill something that is... both. So please, if you don't want your head up on my wall at home, I suggest you scurry away. Don't be offended, hedgehog. I'm being generous here; most of us wouldn't have hesitated to shoot something as… beautiful... as you…"_

 _Chaos. From now on, this guy's name is_ _ **Mephiles.**_

Sonic and Tails met eyes, and the kit saw his brother's face harden again. He turned back and jabbed his index finger in the arab's chest, eyes narrowed, teeth grinding.

"Look pal, I dunno who you are, or who you _think_ you are, but I think you should know who _I_ am. Name's Sonic, Sonic the Hedgehog," he growled. Tails couldn't help glance at Mephiles' friends, who stepped inside the building. _"Sonic…"_ Tails said, voice shaking.

"You might figure that I do, actually, run pretty fast. But I do _not_ run away from cowards, or killers. Which, in my book, are both quite the same. I bring _justice_ to people like you, bud. 'Scurry away' you say? Well, no, especially not if that order is from coming from someone who not only manages to be as crazy as that egg shaped maniac, but also who manages to be even more _horrid,_ and _disgusting._ "

The hedgehog stepped back, suppressing another feral growl. Tails stood, eyeing his brother, a glint of worry showing on his face. "I think we should leave, it's not… I don't think it's the greatest idea."

Green eyes went back to the fox, and they lowered onto the street. It was cracked, tarmac dry as funeral drum. Though the temperature couldn't have been any less than forty degrees centigrade, the air was _cold._

"Do it," he said. Tails understood. His whole life, Sonic had been defender of The Planet, protecting anyone and anything. Harm even a fly and he would be on your tail in a fury of spin dashes and sonic booms.

The translation finished, and the arab merely leered; his greasy, sandy black hair and his scratched, scabbed face made the ear to ear smile all the more revolting.

 _He's biting his lip like it's hedgehog mating season…_

Mephiles laughed and opened his arms again. He yelled out an almost cursive line of words, and reached into his tunic. The previous men came out of the building. All had rifles, fitting into their hands like they were born with the work of wood and stamped steel.

Backing up, hands in the air. He awkwardly bumped into his brother, who dropped the [;computer. He turned to find the soldier who was supposed to be overwatching, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The group started to laugh, and Mephiles lunged out at him, arm yanking him off his feet. Hedgehog would have escaped with ease, but was shell shocked to notice one of his teeth was punched out by the sudden intrusion of a pistol in his mouth.

A voice came through the device.

"Oh, how rude of you to think that I would be all lonely here in Boko Haram! Friends! Show these animals we are _brothers!"_

The icon of cockiness and reassurance turned into a slump of hopelessness. He clawed to record everything he could sense, it would be the last chance he would get. The taste of metal and rust filled the hedgehog's mind, spinning round and round his brain. He noticed the barrel was _hot,_ and his tongue burned under the heat. This pistol had recently been used, and a single thought overtook all others. Closing his eyes, his mind connected the dots. It would be used again.

Then, a gunshot.

His eyes widened, and a scream was choked out by the gun, which was immediately forced further down his throat.

" _alrqs! alrraqs, alththaelub!"_

Then a burst of fire. His ears rang, and he could feel through his feet and into the ground. Tails was jumping up and down, attempting to avoid the automatic shots that were landing just by his red shoes. Tears welled in Sonic's eyes. They had defeated armies of robots capable of taking over a city single handedly, _singlehandedly._ And here they were, about to die being played with by people who were even less human than the anthropomorphic animals that they were torturing. People who found the idea of hunting other citizens _arousing._ Was this all it took to bring down a hero? A love for the kill?

The shooting stopped. Tails stopped jumping for his life, and they all turned to the street. Sonic dared to look, and he felt someone running.

A soldier bolted out into the open, weapon in hand. The same suit, but the helmet was desert beige instead of woodland green. Just like the other, no skin was visible on him. As he caught sight of the scene, he panicked.

"Woah _hell!_ Fucking shootshootshoot _fucking shoot-"_

He brought his rifle to bare from the hip, and Sonic accepted his fate once again when he saw the barrel swing his way. He closed his eyes.

And felt himself soaked in brain matter and blood. The gun dropped out of his mouth, and he fell to the ground, coughing and gagging. The headless body of his captor lay ontop of him, its neck cavity gushing out blood that the heart of its body hadn't stopped pumping yet. Sonic rolled into a ball. More gunshots followed, but he did not look or listen. There was no fear, there was no disgust. There was just nothing, and he just wanted to disappear from this sudden reality.

"Hey,"

He barely heard the new voice over his absence of thought.

"They are gone now, no need to be afraid now. We need to get you out of here."

He uncurled from his ball, the Middle Eastern sun nearly blinding him as he looked up at the man. He had his helmet in the crook of his arm, with an outstretched hand. His face was tall and slender, and black hair was ruffled by the tech filled helmet.

"May I help you up?" he asked. Sonic blinked, and without a word, nodded.

"Okay, give me your hand."

Sonic gave him his hand, and soldier heaved him up. Normally strong, marathon legs nearly gave way when he noticed that the man's grip was wringing his glove; thick red liquid expelled from his hands, and the gloves that everyone saw as pure white were now soaked in blood.

He looked down. Not one inch of his fur was spared from a splatter of red.

"Hey, hedgehog, stay with me man. You alright?"

Turning his head back to the soldier, Sonic opened his mouth to speak. However, no words followed. The gun was still in his mouth, and he was still choking.

"Y-yes… I'm fine," he managed.

Soldier started to pull him, towards the street from which he had barged from. "Come on, I gotta get you to our doc. He'll check you for shock."

However, Sonic stood his ground, not letting the tug move him. "W-wait... where's Tails...?"

"He's fine, he's with him too."

Tails… who else was with him? He couldn't remember, everything before was a blur. And not his kind of blur, the blue kind. It was red.Like his new fur. Like the soldier. Like the dead man.

Sonic put a hand to the trooper's chest, pushing as hard as he could, yet resulting in nothing. Blood from his glove painted on the suit. "L-let go for a second…"

He did so, and he turned back towards his former captor. His head was split; one side of his face screaming, the other side with a thousand yard stare into the sky. The gap down the middle was filled with what used to be the insurgent's brain, turned to mush.

His lunch rising in his stomach, Sonic threw himself onto the tarmac and vomited. His esophagus burned, like bile had flowed into an open wound. He turned his head away from the body, and towards the building.

He saw a boy.

"Wakan hdha 'abi."

Sonic's mouth gaped open, and his heart started to beat against his chest like a hysterical prisoner locked up for a crime he did not commit. Tails' computer spoke.

" _That was my daddy."_

X-X

 _Take this child to the moral high ground, where he can look down on the bigots and bully boys slugging it out in the yard._

 _\- Roger Waters, "To Kill the Child", 2004_


	8. Chapter VII - Lost Art of Conversation

" _...because in the Army, we get taught to say 'kill' in our sleep. You think I'm fucking joking? My friend literally woke me up and told me I was chanting it in the middle of the night."_

 _\- John 'Shovel' Grounds, 2016_

 **Parris Island: 0600 Hours**

He woke up to the sound of a spoon clashing against a frying pan.

"Rise and shine ladies, rise and shine! Make your beds and be standing at the position of attention facing the center of the room, on the double!"

Shadow winced at the sharp sound on his sensitive ears and rubbed his eyes. He raised his arm up and pressed on his head. A knot, no doubt from the beating he took last night. He looked over the bed and found he was on the top bunk.

 _Great. Three feet tall and the bed is six feet up._

Sighing inwardly and preparing to untangle himself from the bedsheets, he heard a voice from below.

"Hey buddy, I got your bed, just get mine."

It was Adam, tapping his toes onto the floor, signalling Shadow with his hand to jump down. As the hedgehog landed, he felt just as full of Chaos energy as any other day, as if the drainage had never happened.

He flawlessly laid the bedsheets and blanket in order and slide his bare feet together to the position of attention. Though still drowsy, he felt quite aware of his surroundings. So aware, in fact-

 _Wait, where did my skates go?_

Shadow whipped his head around impulsively and checked his feet, which were bare. Adam was finished with Shadow's area and the militant Eagle started shouting again.

"Not bad ladies, not bad. Looks like some of you can do _something_ quickly. I do not think I have introduced myself to you, is that correct?"

" _Yes sir!_ "

"Good, just as I thought. My name is Anthro Sergeant Hartmann, but you will either call me Sergeant, or Sergeant Hartmann. _Those are your only two choices, do you understand?_ "

" _Yes sir!_ "

"Next, the words 'I, he, she, they, my, or us' will _not_ be used while you maggots are still Privates! Once you get your first stripe on your shoulder, then you will be given the absolute _privilege_ to use those pronouns! Do you know what you say as opposed to those words?"

" _Yes sir!"_

"Ain't that a surprise, because I don't remember tellin' ya! Wherever else you got this information, it is _wrong!_ If you did not hear it from me, or my partner, you are incorrect! Is that clear?"

" _Yes sir!"_

" _Are you sure?"_

" _Yes sir!"_

" _Good!_ Now listen up ponies, cause I'm only gonna say this once. You will only refer to people other than me or Gunny as 'This recruit' or 'The recruit' when speaking about yourself, 'That recruit', 'Those recruits or 'These recruits' when talking about other people, with you or not."

Shadow couldn't help but feel like a herd of slaves being trained from birth. They were being trained to _talk_ for god's sake. He wouldn't be surprised if Hartmann had his own little whip inside a bright red box with a window that had the label _'In case of emotion, break glass.'_

The human assistant stepped out.

"Hello recruits, my name is Gunnery Sergeant Nepton. You will refer to me as Gunny or Nepton. If you have any personal issues with anybody that conflicts with the training process you will come to me; we don't have time for nonsense. Understood?"

" _Yes sir!"_

"Alright, the anthros among you may have noticed you are missing some things you may or may not consider vital to you. Private Colbert, you are missing your power rings. Private Newton, you are missing your headband, and Private Shadow is missing his Hover Skates."

"This is not an accident. You will need learn to do everything in training without your Mobian derived powers. On the battlefield, both sides have measures to destroy an anthro's capability of using his powers to turn the tide of a fight. This is how things are in the normal order of battle, so you must be prepared to do everything you need to without your easy buttons."

The bald eagle interjected. "That means all of you will now get your naked asses dressed and out of my barracks, march your sorry tails over to the track, and _run,_ not walk, _run_ five kilometers! Now everybody, _get out!"_

As he pointed out the door, the humans of the group scrambled to put on their clothes, as most of them were either wearing undershirts or only underwear. Shadow saw a Marine green shirt hanging off the rail on the bottom bunk and handed it over to Adam.

"Thanks man. Hey, let's be running partners," he suggested. "You have better endurance while acquainted with someone."

Turning his head, Shadow became suspicious of the offer. He worked better alone. He had _saved the world_ alone. Anyone else bogged him down.

"Come on, I can tell you're not used to being barefoot."

The hedgehog twisted the rest of his body, and remembered that he really _didn't_ spend much time out of his skates, not even sleeping. Every time they came off, a chill would run up through his legs followed by extreme sensitivity, like he had a bodyache.

 _I don't think I've gone twenty meters without my skates since the Ark._

Shadow nodded, signaling Adam to lead the way. The Polish descendant started to jog out the door, passing Sergeant Hartmann as they left the barracks. The anthro called through his hands to the two.

" _Stripes,_ have you spent more than one minute out of those damn ice skates of yours? Get your ass movin'!"

Once out of range, the human sneered. "Don't pay attention to that _American_ _hero._ I think the track is over there, most people are going this way."

Trailing Adam, Shadow felt off balance and awkward on every step. They passed by a couple people who were taking things a little slow, and managed to find the track, which was three football fields long. Shadow, however, wasn't exactly up to date with sports, and his eyes would gauge the distance and give an approximate measurement in steps.

He concentrated, taking the run one step at a time, grunting when Adam raised an eyebrow at his flat footed strides.

"You know, there's a lot of running in the Army. You sure you're cut out for military life with that kind of step?" he asked. In return, Shadow rewarded him with a glare and a growl. "I'll have you know, I've gone toe to toe with an entire G.U.N City Guard _division_ and they couldn't stop me. So I'd advise you be _quiet."_

To his dismay, Adam wasn't the quiet type.

"Wait, you fought G.U.N?"

He shook his head. He didn't need to talk to this man, he was nothing but a burden. Distracting him from his challenge.

He tripped, his heart rising to his throat. His face hit the tarmac, ripping off a layer of flesh. Holding in a grunt, he tried to raise himself up. A gasp escaped his lips as he was picked up by the waist and placed back on his feet. Looking up, a smug face was shining down upon him. He could have sworn he heard _'thank me later,'_

Alright. Maybe he could spare some conversation in return, though every instinct was telling him _'no, please don't'_

"Yes. I was first an experiment of theirs and they didn't take kindly when I was freed. And, they couldn't decide if I was their friend or foe."

Adam curled his eyebrows in thought. _"Reports of a Black Blur attacking City Guard forces…_ that was you!"

"It wasn't my fault you humans couldn't tell the difference between a floating alien and a black hedgehog," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "Besides, you didn't exactly have to be very observant to catch that. Didn't you hear the bird spell out my whole life story?"

"There's a thing I do when someone starts yelling or acting senselessly. I usually just tone out or forget it. Thought it would help when going through a lot of it," Adamusik said. The hedgehog wasn't impressed. "Forgetting information that may pay to be useful in the future for the sake of your own feelings? One of the most human things I've heard."

" _Well,"_ Adam started. _Again._ Did he not know when to shut up? "You're not very representative of your species, all closed up and grunty." He ended with a chuckle. Shadow felt some of his fur on his arms soften up. He held no response, and continued to concentrate on running a step at a time.

Pressing on, he gave Shadow a bump on the shoulder with his elbow. He growled in protest.

"You said you wanted to become an agent, any reason for that?"

"Why should you know?" Shadow said, not wanting to converse anymore.

A smirk tugged at the corner of the Pole's lips. "Well, it's not so much I need to know, and more that you need to _let_ people know. Communication. It's important for teamwork, you know?"

An indicator of a hedgehog's state of mind is their quills. Often when they are annoyed or scared, they tend to tense up and rise. When being soothed, relaxed, or entertained, they tend to droop naturally. Normally Shadow's quills would come up like a pit of spikes, and he would turn his head away to give the source of his annoyance a face full of quills.

However, when he turned this time, there was no danger to the human. Adam chuckled.

"Maybe I _did_ listen to that bird's screaming, and I just wanted to hear your own point of view."

Turning back, this time his eyes fell upon Adam naturally. There was no urge to look away or to divert his gaze somewhere else, like he would anyone else. Except Maria.

"...if you _must_ know, I don't exactly have a species to fit into. I was created aboard the Space Colony ARK over fifty years ago. I was supposed to cure Professor Gerald Robotnik's granddaughter, Maria, of NIDS. However, the Professor and Maria were the only ones concerned with that fact…"

Adam nodded, and let the silence continue for a little longer. They were finishing their first lap, and passing by the Gunnery Sergeant. His smartphone in one hand and a stopwatch in the other.

"...everyone else weren't concerned with NIDS research. Afterall, Maria was an outlier in the infected demographic. You humans usually have AIDS, but NIDS usually resides in Anthros. The ones funding the research were G.U.N, and didn't care about saving a few humans and a lot of animals."

A slow nod. Shadow shook his head. He knew that he wouldn't understand; they were who encouraged his poor treatment. Adam was just an obstacle on his way to getting to the top and protecting the world. Everyone was deadweight.

And the nice feeling he was getting while talking to him was totally just a diversion.

"...they turned you into a weapon?" he asked.

A smirk landed on Shadow's face. He might as well start gloating. "You saw what I did at Prison Island. I'd say it backfired on them."

"And yet you're here. About to do three months of training, three months in the Middle East, all for a shot at being an agent? What do you have up there anyway?"

Shadow stumbled again, regaining composure.

"I have a… friend. More of a comrade, but she's the closest person that I have."

"Really?" Shadow nodded.

"Who is she?"

"Her name's Rouge, you might have heard of her."

Adam's eyes widened and he suppressed a cough of surprise, nearly joining Shadow in his most recent stumble. "Might!? _Na litość boską,_ she's practically the mascot for all of G.U.N! Doing missions in a _bright pink_ suit! Insane…"

Shadow smirked, barely showing his newly found smugness. "She was the last person I saw before enlisting, actually; letting hell break loose at Club Rouge."

"What kind of chaos are we talking, here?" Adam asked, seemingly to be suddenly more interested.

"Fights in the crowd, lap dances, I got groped."

"What next? You're friends with Sonic the Hedgehog?"

 _Heh. I think that's enough for now._

" _Faggot Stripes and Sir Auschwitz! Ten-hut!"_

They stopped in their tracks and quickly turned around, heels clicking together to the position of attention. Before they knew it, Hartmann was in arm's reach. He stopped and placed his hands on his hips.

" _What_ in Sam's Hell are you two doing? Why aren't you up there with the rest of the group?"

Adamusik glanced at the ground and looked back up, eyes jumping from place to place.

"Sir, the recruits were running at a conservative pace, to help with our endeavors later, sir."

The bird of prey opened his mouth and raised his beak to the sky, glaring down on the Polish young.

"Oohhhh, I see. There are one of two possibilities and I don't like either of em'."

Shadow managed a glance over the instructor, and noticed his burning, golden eyes glaring down upon Adam's sky blue irises. Hartmann took his hands off his hips and made fists.

" _Possibility number one!_ You are a sympathetic bastard who is running at Faggot Stripes' pace now that he doesn't have his _grown up roller skates…_ "

Blood rushed to Shadow's head.

 _Was that why Adam offered to join me? Pity?_

He didn't need _pity_ of all things. It helped no one but the insecure, who took greatly the fact that they could care for someone else's problems.

" _Possibility number two!_ I do _not_ like this one a single bit, and if it is true, boy; Private Poland, we may have a bit of a problem between you and me… _**You were flirting with Faggot Stripes!**_ _Is that true?"_

" _Sir no sir!"_

" _Well I am not exactly convinced!_ I do not condone laziness or pity on this island… but I sure fucking don't condemn any sort of relationship of that kind while _I am around._ Oh, don't you fucking worry, it's nothing illegal…"

Adam sucked in a breath, and Shadow thought that he might have been hit in a sensitive spot.

"What it _is_ though, is against _my_ morals, and on this island, _my morals are_ _ **your**_ _morals! So get your ass running or I'll beat the gayness out of you myself!_ As for you Faggot Stripes, you best pick up the pace or I'll start whippin' you like the animal you are!"

He locked eyes like swords, then turned his head to Shadow. He nodded, then started to jog away. After that, the bird of prey turned around and started to walk towards an approaching lone anthro who was also jogging, undoubtedly preparing to harass her too.

Shadow shook his head and stepped off, bare foot in front of the other, repeating with a thud that flew up the inside of his body on each time his feet met the ground. As he progressed around yet another turn, he saw the grass and clouds turn into a blur. As his vision started to cloud, sweat started to form over Shadow's eye ridges, and he started to feel completely out of breath.

For the first time in a long time, the Black Blur was struggling.

Sure, this wasn't the first time he had to physically run as opposed to skate, but this _was_ the first time he was forced completely out of his own control. He felt as if some outside interference was _forcing_ him to extend and push off his legs. They became sore, and the Ultimate Lifeform added two and two.

 _My Chaos Skates, that's where I pump my Chaos energy through when I run, but now that they're gone-_

He succumbed to yet another fragile state, as once again he felt his energy spilling out into the world around him. Not crippling by any means as was the case last time, but he knew that he was no longer in control of his Chaos energy. Then, he noticed that his wrists were a lot cooler, so were his ankles.

They hadn't just taken his skates, his inhibitor rings were gone too.

He hated those rings, with a passion; but only because he knew he needed them. The rings restricted his output of Chaos energy in order to control his power during combat, and although when Shadow first got them he felt drained, now it was essential for him to have them on when exerting any sort of physical work.

His whole body was suffering from withdrawal.

 _Why haven't I noticed this until now? I was doing the same thing and just now I'm hit with all the symptoms-_

Lifting his chin off his chest, he forced his eyes to refocus on the group ahead. Adamusik was in the back of the pack, staying with the group but not quite pushing himself.

There was an urge, a longing, as if something was missing. Not his skates or Inhibitor Rings, but something else. This longing for contact was only comparable of what he wanted with Maria. He accepted the fact, not wanting internal conflict on the matter. He would be lying to himself if he said it didn't matter who it was that he was talking to. 

He picked up the pace, running harder and faster in spite of the loss of breath, unexplainable cramps and pain, the sore feet.

 _The human was right, you do perform better while in conversation._

X-X

 _ **Somewhere in Beirut**_

So it was hot the night before. Now, when the sun shined upon the cracked streets and blank buildings, Sonic was _dying_.

Not literally, but he felt like it. All alone in a crowd of people, their body heat rubbing itself into his skin, as well as the relentless sun beating down upon him, making his fur hot to the touch. He felt his gloves start to heat up and melt.

There was little to no shade. If there was, it was occupied by the homeless. _They have it worse,_ he thinks. Their homes were literally bombed to rubble. They should get the small satisfaction of a slightly cooler world while they starve on the side of the road. All while soldiers walk past without batting an eye.

He worked his way to the shop, prepared to do something he had never let himself do before. _Beg._ After spending so many years homeless on South Island after Dr. Eggman blew it up, he had never been a beggar.

He opened the door, bells ringing signalling his arrival.

" _Salam!"_ the woman behind the counter greeted. Her smiled dropped like a rock when she noticed that he didn't even have pockets to turn out.

His head hung low, quills drooped, eyes locked on the ground.

"I am sorry, ma'am. I… I have no food. No water. No way home. I don't even speak your language. Could I please just have a bite to eat?"

Silence. He watched as the woman turned around and whispered to her assistant. Into the ear, behind the counter. They gasped when Tails' computer translated.

" _Do we have anything for him?"_

" _Look. He hasn't eaten in days. Our own sisters out there haven't eaten in weeks. We serve him, we'd have to serve everybody."_

" _Then let's do it! No mind to our boss, we have military to protect us!"_

" _Protect!? You realize they shelled this place? We had to rebuild! They're just as bad terrorists as the rest!"_

Turning his head away from the women, Sonic walked to a shelf and grabbed some sardines. He tossed them to the cashier, who nearly fumbled it.

"That's all I need for a month," he said, slowly walking towards them. "It costs fifty cents. Help me with this and I will help a hundred more."

Behind the counter, they exchanged glances. When they were about to make a decision, they heard a stomach growling.

"gharamatan!" the older shouted, throwing her arms into the air. She took the can and launched it at the beggar, and Sonic saw tears in her eyes under her burqa. _"alkhuruja, alqunfudh ghaby!"_

He ran out the door. This was why he had never begged or asked for anything before. There are always so many below him that need more, and the people he asked become distraught. His own tears rose to his eyes as he sped through the streets of Beirut, dodging every car and man that was in his way. He ran up the side of a building and collapsed on the roof. Gloved hands tore through the lid of the can like paper, like the claws of the werehog. He forced a sardine into his mouth and swallowed it.

He had been shot many times, he had been thrown into skyscrapers, he had been dropped from orbit. But this was the most he had ever hurt. Like greed was ripping its way from his heart out of his chest. Quills tensed and he was forced to lay on his side as he wept away his self loathing.

Tails was not around to be a shoulder to cry on this time.

X-X

" _I don't need no arms around me. I don't need no drugs to calm me. I have seen the writing on the wall. Don't think I need anything at all."_

 _\- Pink Floyd, Another Brick in the Wall Part 3, The Wall, 1979_


	9. Chapter VIII - Digital Flora

" _It is well that war is so terrible – otherwise we would grow too fond of it."_

 _\- Robert E. Lee, Battle of Fredericksburg, December 13th, 1862_

X-X

 _ **Outskirts of Kraków, Poland. June 21st, 1997.**_

The air was still, stale. Smelling like the taste of bread that had been left out too long. His dad led him through a door into his room. The room he never came out of. The room where he would punch the walls and shout imaginary orders at imaginary people. Above the threshold was a small poster. ' _Jones! Stop!'_ The face of the president was crossed out by two rifles.

Inside was a lonely bed and a lonely chair. A television in the corner, spouting _FAUX News._ A bookshelf, with only a few books. Said books were texts on military strategy, including _The Art of War,_ Rommel's autobiography, Michel Ney's diary. The rest were trophies, awards, plaques.

He gestured towards Adamusik, palm open. "Sit, my boy. Listen to me."

This wasn't normal. Usually he would have to ask him to tell stories. Staying silent, Adam took a seat on the bed. He twiddled his thumbs, looking with a blank smile on his face.

His dad sighed, turning his head towards the bookshelf. The wrinkles on his face stretched, almost audible to the ear. Like rubber. He reached over and grabbed a medal.

"What is that?" Adam asked, suddenly interested. His young innocence and curiosity overtook his better judgement. "How did you get it?"

Sucking in his lips, the father's eyes diverted to the text on the medal. He nodded. _"The Medal of the Winged Hussar is awarded to the Polish man who rescued a Federation outpost or unit in a situation where death would have otherwise been inevitable."_

He turned it over.

" _Presented to Kaldat Raginis, for outstanding bravery and sacrifice in the face of evil."_ He continued to nod, agreeing with the stamped metal. On this face was the engraving of a man on a horse, both armoured. The man was wearing wings, which were upright, as if in flight. He held a lance, primed and ready to impale.

"Who is that?" Adam asked. "The man on the coin."

His father laughed. "It is no coin, Adamusik… it is a medal."

"But the man!" he persisted.

Through the window, the sun fell below the Polish landscape, which was mostly flat. The family potato farm. The sun's final rays pointed into their eyes, forcing them to divert their gaze. Kaldat clapped his hands together.

"In the late 1683, there was a battle. The Battle of Vienna. The Muslims of the Ottoman Empire, the Crimeans, Hungarians… they attacked the Austrian capital. They suffered for very long, and would have certainly lost…"

Adam jumped from the bed, attention fully captured. "But they didn't!" Kaldat smiled.

"No. On the Ottoman's flank, the Polish cavalry emerged from the forest. The cavalry were the Winged Hussars. And so it is part of the culture of Poland that we rescue those who are in desperation."

"And you saved some people!" the child exclaimed.

In a sense, yes.

X-X

 _ **Northern Australia, Point Stuart, 0735 hours, April 6th, 1973.**_

With a map stretched over his knee as he crouched, Kaldat Raginis found his squad's bearings. Platoon section was in the small village three hundred meters back. His squad, Alpha, was dealing was casualties. The assault on the village had slowed alpha to a crawl, with a few men getting hit by the Mobians. However, thanks to the first aid suits and heavy plate carriers, none were dead.

He pressed a few buttons on his helmet, and the screen flickered to a digital version of the map. It was preferable to use this one, but sometimes physical maps are easier to get directions on. Bravo was heading into the forest to their north east, leaving the rest of the platoon in the dust. Charlie was rear guard, making sure no enemy enveloped them from the rear. He tapped his squad net push-to-talk.

"Medic, this is ASL. How are the wounded?"

In his left ear, the young man in charge of putting humans back together could almost be heard shaking his head.

" _ASL, this is medic. There's no wounded. They just wanted some fucking painkillers."_

Okay. So maybe the casualties were just suffering from drug withdrawal. Pain is pain either way.

Before he could address his squad in whole, he got a pat on the shoulder.

"Sergeant Raginis?" he said. The platoon commander did not wear the standard Knighthelm IHS as the rest of the men did. His face in comparison, was visible to an extent. The goggles over his eyes providing a much better picture of digital information than the visors.

"Sir?" he acknowledged, robotically. The fog started to pass by again, as if going around a track. They had noticed to would come back every hour or so. _The things you notice between fighting…_

"Take your squad to reinforce bravo, they said they were taking contact but we would be hearing shots by now. Tell your men to keep it slow, those woods are thick."

"Aye, sir."

And he was gone, just like that. Funny how that works; the most important man within a kilometer and almost never to be seen.

He addressed his squad.

"Alpha, SITREP."

" _This is Alpha one, green on ammo. Green on casualties. Security is maintained to the north west and north."_

" _This is Alpha two, green, green, we've used one AT in the assault. Security is east and northeast."_

" _This is medic. Green."_

Sighing, he brought up the map again, looking at bravo's position and their own.

"Okay, listen up. Squad column moving north west, into that forest. Bravo says they're in contact, so once we hit the trees, I want the fireteams getting in a wide skirmish line. Guns up, slow is smooth and smooth is fast. Once we meet bravo, I'm gonna ask them what they're contact was and we're gonna go and kill them. Questions?"

" _One copies."_

" _Two copies."_

He wrapped up the paper map and hid it in one of the airtight pouches on his thigh. Zipping it up, he turned around to look for the commander again.

Still nothing there.

"Okay. Medic, you're with me. Let's roll out. ASL will be behind the teams till we take contact."

He looked at the clock in the bottom right of his vision. _1524._

"Step off!"

X-X

As they hit the treeline, both of his fireteams stopped. They spread out, laterally, in a line. About ten paces apart. Raginis tapped the shoulder of the first team leader. "What do you see, why are you stopped?"

The FTL pointed and hit the button on his glove, giving a squad wide marker on their helmet displays. _Contact, front, fifty meters._ It was no more than a helmet out in the middle of the trees and grass.

But it wasn't one of _their_ helmets.

"Okay," he whispered. "You're alpha two, yes?" It was a redundant question. There was a label floating over his head, _A2 FTL._

"You hold here and keep your guns up. Be ready to shoot anything that isn't us. Possible that bravo is over there," he said, sprinting away to the first team.

"One, you're gonna move dead ahead, then make a ninety degree turn and sweep that whole general area. Same spacing, and make sure someone is looking northwest while you're sweeping. Go."

The man with the cross on his shoulder came up to him, and Raginis immediately pointed to the direction that A1 left. If bravo was hurt there, he wanted help for them ASAP.

He went into binocular mode, watching over even a shrub or bush to rustle. The air was heavy, and the ruckbag on his back became that much harder to stand with. The grenade launching rifle in his arms shook as he aimed down the sight, the red dot bobbing left and right. Up and down.

The air he breathed seemed to get thicker as well. Probably from the white phosphorous that was being used a few miles to the south west of them.

" _This is alpha one. No enemy contact. But… we got problems."_

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and started running towards them, alpha two following close behind. The woods were impossibly thick, almost _barbarically_ thick. There were roots and fallen trees absolutely everywhere. _As if no one cleaned up or burned their forests._

Vaulting another log, he went straight for his medic. The scene he found was biblical.

Sixteen men sprawled out on the ground, face in the tall grass. Only small amounts of light shown through the canopy as if it was a jungle, so the the refraction off the bodies' visors invaded his eyes, even through his black filter.

"Doc!" he shouted. "What happened?"

Combat life saver shook his head. "I don't know, we just found them all like this. This guy is was the only one moving…" he said while cutting open the suit. Blood gushed out of the opening and Raginis scrambled to hand him the gauze.

The medic shooed him away. "Look, I need help with this. One team checking the rest of them."

A cloud passed overhead, and the scene became pitch black.

"Alpha two! Check the wounded! Alpha one! Security!"

He himself joined the security team, looking out into the darkness. Of course, he had artificial light in the form of infrared optics, built into the four cameras and sensors that face forward on the helmet. He spared a look back at the carnage, and saw men throwing up into their balaclavas as they tore off the dead's helmets; the empty faces of their past friends, once alive only half an hour before... The smell of death and sickness didn't reach him, however. His own balaclava masked his nose from it. _The irony…_

Strangely, he didn't feel any fear, or even pity. _This is what I have to do for my country,_ his brain told him. _This what they have to do for their country._

His heart corrected him. _No, that's a bunch of soyashit._

Snapping back into reality, Raginis realized that he hadn't reported anything into platoon yet, and he was talking into his right ear.

" _Alpha this is command, what is happening in there? I'm on the way."_

His heart once again gave him an insight, and he immediately became skittish. Heart rate increased, adrenaline pumped, eyes dilated.

"This is alpha… looks like all of bravo is dead. We have fifteen dead and one wounded," he said, dropping the rest of his thought like a searing hot rod of steel. He shouldn't worry about it. He _couldn't_ worry about it.

" _Roger, alpha. Continue to your blocking position. Charlie is moving to replace. Charlie, this is command. Get your ass to the forest and do bravo's job."_ There was no sign of loss or disappointment in his voice. Only a minor inconvenience. Was this what happens in all of the whole regiment? Platoon leaders using whole squads like meat shields?

He looked back at his own squad, and found the faceless faces of his disheartened men. You couldn't tell their moral, or emotion, or _anything_ from looking at them. A faceless face, covered by a black visor and a green mask.

"Okay Alpha, this is ASL. Let's get moving to our blocking point. Medic, what's the status on that wounded?" His orders were monotone.

" _ASL is this medic. He's okay. AT rifleman. He's joining alpha two. Seemed like it was hand to hand combat, no gunshot wounds or anything on the rest. Just cuts and open wounds."_

It struck him.

Hand to hand combat. No gunshots or any time for contact reports. Were they being watched right now? He was about to shake off the thought when his ears picked up something.

The birds weren't singing.

" _SHOOT THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF THE TREES!"_

As soon as the order left his mouth, his men started firing. Fully automatic 6.5mm rounds nearly leveled some unfortunate plants as they swept the area around them. Fear of a lurking enemy., that were about to pounce on them, like a panther. Some of the enemy _were_ panthers. He ears rang, but he payed no mind. Some grenades popped fifty meters ahead, causing a thin tree to fall.

Firing stopped, they ran out of their first magazine. Now was the time find the enemy while they were shocked.

" _Alpha! Push northwest! Go! Go! Go!"_

They jumped off their crouched positions and bolted forwards, vaulting over more fallen trees and cutting through thick shrubs with their bayonets. No matter that there was no order to fix bayonets, they were too likely to need them. The battle cry they were forced to scream in basic again and again was repeated, and the roar of seventeen young men echoed through the forest, scaring away the few wildlife that hadn't already fled the scene.

Men fired their rifles from the hip, sweeping the brush ahead of them with tracer fire. All like the Winged Hussars charging down the mountain in rescue of Vienna, the Polish squad leader led a charge into a thick forest against an invisible enemy.

Then the trees stopped.

Nearly knocking him over, the medic slammed into Raginis, his bayonet nearly impaling from the back. They all lowered their weapons, staring out into what was, at first, a beautiful sight. A vast field, grass coming up to the chest. To their right, a mountain caged in the endless monotone green. A few small swampy areas and trees, but besides, completely clear.

Again, platoon was in his ear.

" _Alpha! Do you copy!?"_

Sighing again, he looked over his squad. Everyone was standing, no one crouched. No one pulled security, and no one was in the ready with their rifles. Shock. Shock that they found nothing.

"Uh, platoon. Alpha. We copy."

" _What the fuck was that?"_ he yelled in his ear. Raginis collapsed on the ground, sitting.

"...nothing, sir. Absolutely nothing." Before another question could be raised towards him, he simply took the helmet off. Frustrated and disapointed, he took out his binoculars and looked towards the field, out of necessity alone. He scanned over the trees. The adrenaline of combat faded and a boredom overtook all else.

Someone came behind him.

"...sir?"

Turning around, the trooper squatted down to his level. He had no idea how, but he knew this soldier was from bravo.

"Yes. I'm…" Raginis struggled to get the words out. He had barely realized himself. Though they were separated vastly in combat, every single one of those deaths were a friend of his. He linked the voice to a name.

"Lakkie. You alright? Not hurt?"

A shake of the helmet. "No sir, I was fine. Everyone else…"

A shake of the head. "You don't need to say a word, bud. Just sit down and calm down," he said, taking the other's hand. A small tug, a comforting one. That it would be fine to have a rest for a couple of minutes.

"No sir, I can't. We just got ambushed a few minutes ago, we could be attacked at any moment..."

He squeezed his hand a little more. "You're a one man team right now. There's no way you can pull that security all by yourself. I'll get my guys to do it, they're not the ones that..." He couldn't finish. It wasn't needed however, as Lackey did accept what he was being offered. As he sat down, his hands went up to the visor of his helmet, and faint sobs could be heard through all of the technology...

Now that he had time to think about more than just whether the silence was the presence of the enemy, and his helmet's hearing protection was off his head, his ears caught the sound of the world. Or rather, understood the significance of the lack of it.

Australia was the haven of wildlife. Feral animals would roam freely regardless of civilization or the abrigini's presence. Normally you would constantly hear the sounds of chirping birds, fighting insects, munching critters. Now, the smell of gunpowder and the sulfur from mortar shells have chased the animals away. Now, the ecosystem is empty, and silent. Now, the sound of death is the only one to be heard.

His binoculars came back up to his eyes as he scanned the field once more, waiting for orders. Though, he wasn't planning on looking out on the radio. Pact would have to find him for _that_ to happen.

 _I'm gonna get a court martial or something,_ he thought. There was very little in the way of evidence of the enemy's presence, and it was possible some of the men pulling rear were shooting at their own platoon leader. _No,_ he convinced himself. _It is understandable... a whole squad was dead in hand to hand combat. There's a high likelihood... wait._

 _That tree isn't supposed to move._

A mass of green leaves and bark was skipping across the field before him at nearly thirty kilometers an hour, making brief stops, seemingly scanning the area, then moving again. He rubbed his eyes. Was he going mental?

"Fireteam leaders!" he called. Two men were above him at once, nearly at attention.

"Look towards that field and don't tell me that tree is fucking moving," he ordered. The leaders pulled out their own binos and checked. Their voices were shaking.

"...sir... that's an enemy..."

 _"IFV."_

At once, he jumped to his feet and shoved his helmet back onto his head. Over squad radio, he screamed.

 _"Alpha! Get the fuck back in the-"_

And that was when the men to his left exploded.

X-X

 _ **Forty eight years later, two months before present; Somewhere in Zululand, 2200 hours, CAT time**_

Rouge laid on her stomach under the same tree that was on the same mountain in the same place, watching the same South African compound, which contained the same people who sometimes brought out the slightly more exciting, yet still the same guns.

She had been here for weeks, living off an MRE a day and only looking through her pair of laser designators which she had set to infrared. The sand coloured buildings were bright red through the IR, and the people who came out of said buildings were white hot.

Something was going on in there.

She reached for her push-to-talk button that was located chest below her chest, clicked it, and sent an update; not daring to speak above a whisper.

" _Grateful Four this is White Rose. They've fallen into a pattern now. At twelve hundred they come in and don't leave their respective buildings, and at 0200 they leave and walk home. Break."_

Rouge released the talk button and peered through her binos again, making sure no one was looking at her position. She raised her head to look over the crest below, checking if anyone was within throwing distance. She clicked again.

" _At 0200 everyone that has come to the compound leaves and goes home. Then another set of people come in at 0300. Requesting permission to use the gap in time to investigate up close. Over."_

It had been so long since she had spoken that she had to clear her throat. Coughing as softly as she could into her camouflage fatigues, Rouge pushed the congestion out of her throat and into her uniform.

 _Dirt and mucus. Yuck._

Rouge thought about back home. Being a spy and recon asset meant you could easily trick the ones closest to you. All of her comrades thought she'd be doing this in her signature white and pink heart spying gear. In truth, it's only use was for casual occasions and when the situation is a bit silly. The uniform she wore on operations was a desert version of Digital Flora- designed by the Russians and modified by herself to fit her style. Instead of tall high heels, she had dull, sand sprayed boots which, although ugly, did the job much better.

 _Yeah Rouge. Giant space cannon able to destroy the world… definitely silly._

After what felt like an eternity, Grateful 4 got back to her.

" _We copy, do what's best for you. We need to find out as much as we can, while we can; you extract in a month."_

" _Yeahyeah, I know. Over and out."_

The bat had to restrain herself from raising her fist in the air in excitement. _Finally_ , she could go do what she always longed to do all her life.

 _Time to sneak in and grab some shit!_

X-X

 _"And these wars,_

 _they can't be won.  
Does anyone know or care how they begun?  
They just promise to go on and on and on."_

 _\- Muse, 'United States of Eurasia', The Resistance, 2009_


	10. Chapter IX - No Propaganda

" _Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away;  
Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air.  
You better watch out,  
There may be dogs about  
I've looked over Jordan, and I have seen  
Things are not what they seem."_

 _\- Pink Floyd, 'Sheep', Animals, 1977_ _ ****_

X-X

On the top of another building, he chewed on the bones of a chicken wing that he took from a trash pile around the back of a restaurant. The cover he wore from the sun was made from the trash bags taken from the drawers of said restaurant, and the water he had sucked for the last day was collected from a stolen cup from a polluted river running through the center of a war torn Beirut.

He should have been in his element like this. His whole early life was exactly like this. Stuck on Westside Island, homeless like this. Hungry like this. Hot like this. Lonely like this. Desperate like this.

But he wasn't.

He grabbed his tail, and shook it. Sand and dirt flew in all directions from his once fluffy and clean fur. He sighed as another gunshot spawned the eruption of another firefight. He now knew who was who by the shots. GUN troops were the sharp booms. Boko Haram were the longer, dreaded cracks. Soon, the shots overlapped each other, and he could no longer tell who was winning. Just a constant thunder in the direction of the sun.

Where was Sonic when he was always in his darkest hours? Or was it his reliance on him that drove him to such internal churning?

His eyes closed, and tiredness took him away before he could blame anyone anymore.

X-X

He opened his eyes, and saw a grey hallway. It stretched endlessly, the bland surface of the walls, ceiling, and floor never ending. Occasionally, a still desk with a vase of flowers would break the monotony.

 _What…?_

Rubbing his eyes, Tails got himself up, throwing away the trash bag blanket. To his left and right appeared doors, upon doors, upon doors. Stretching as far as the endless hallway. His namesakes wrapped around himself, shielding the sudden chill that assaulted him. He turned towards a door, and his eyes fell upon the golden engraving.

 _Pigs._

He blinked a few times. _Pigs? Is this a farm? Why was there a golden engraving on a room for pigs?_

Some voices to his right caught his attention, breaking the eternal silence. As he stepped, some pebbles fell out of his shoes, the landings echoing softly throughout the hall. He put his ear against the other door.

" _...yes! And I told you, already, I don't want to see you until you get it! So get back down there and grab it!"_

There was no additional response, but as with so many stealth missions he had been a part of, Tails dived for the nearest cover available. Which just so happened to be a restroom behind him.

A human walked out, in working coveralls, and a gasmask on his face. His boots stomped on the ground, dusty and dirty. The door slammed behind him, and then the sound died down again. Nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat. Daring to take a peek, Tails checked both ways. All clear.

This door also had a plaque. _Pigs/Dogs_

The next door had _Dogs._

Then _Dogs._

And more _Dogs._

The lights above him went off, absolute darkness taking over. Upon blinking, the light was back. And he was back at the door with _Pigs._ His ear went to it, trying to see if anyone was inside. He had to be careful. He didn't know where he was, or _why_ he had to be so cautious. He just… did.

He heard nothing, and his gloved hand wrapped around the doorknob. Like the plaque, it was golden, and his reflection took up its picture. He turned it.

And nothing happened. His hand simply slipped on the knob. He tried to turn again, but to the same result. He took his glove off and used his bare hand, but still nothing. A grunt of frustration, and he took the knob with both of his arms, trying to find any sort of leverage. Still nothing.

Footsteps echoed to his right, and he dived backwards again, head nearly hitting the wall of the bathroom. However, he could tell it was not the earlier man. His steps were not dropping spineless, and somehow he could tell that his back was erect, not slumped.

First, a knock on the door. Then, a slam of the fist against the wall. _"Open the fuck up!"_

The voice belonged to Sonic.

A click, squeak, and the door closed. Tails' bangs fell down over his eyes, and his namesakes trembled. He peeked out at the door, fear freezing him. The pigs' room became loud, with shouting and thuds coming through as if the walls were paper thin. He should leave.

But his innocent curiosity got the better of him. With light steps, he snuck out into the hallway and pushed the door. This time, something was different. The door may have had a defense mechanism that wouldn't allow anyone to get in outside a certain period of time. The knob turned flawlessly and silently.

Through a crack in the door, the room inside revealing a massive window. The view was not of a city landscape as he thought. There were rolling hills, trees all around, and livestock within the gates. However, a coat of ash and soot covered the land with a layer of grey and black.

Upon closer inspection, the livestock were people.

" _Hey! Who's there!?"_

He froze, not even moving his eyelids to blink. Hopefully, it wasn't towards him.

 _But it's Sonic! He'd be happy to see me… right?_

Someone came towards the door.

"Did I not make myself clear? _State your fucking business here!"_

All support from his legs were gone as the door was yanked open, and Tails fell to the ground. As he tried to scramble back up, still no strength was found in his legs. He shook his was nothing to be afraid of, right? It was his best friend! Maybe he was just having a bad day or…

Looking up, he saw something even more strange. His brother was pinned up in a suit, covered from neck to toe with black and white. Not even his red and white sneakers were spared. Black and white. _Flat_ black and white. Sonic never dressed like this, he would rather _die_ before dressing like this.

Experience from being held at gunpoint forced the most rational words he could think of to be pushed from his mouth.

" _Sonic!_ It's Tails, snap out of it!" he yelled. Amnesia wasn't exactly unknown to the heroes, but happening to his best friend? His stomach sank and threatened to rise out of his throat.

Nothing came from him, however. Not even a shout. An artificial silence took over again. This time, Tails wasn't breathing.

"...Tails. Sounds something one of the _sheep_ would call themselves."

His eyes frantically searching for something, _anything_ that would tell him he's looking at his friend. Though the face was the same, it radiated hostility and no-nonsense. Something that Sonic _never_ was. He found no good news, and even worse, a lit cigar handing out of the corner of his mouth.

He tried to raise himself again, finding support in his feet. A dress shoe dropped upon chest, pushing him down and forcing the air out of his chest. Nothing happened, just Sonic's eyes glaring into every detail of him. His heart beat out of his chest.

Sonic turned his head back, and a familiar red echidna came into view.

"Knuckles. Does this look like someone I've hired? I can barely remember any of those faces down there anymore," he asked. His righthand man shook his head. "As much as I admire your memory, it seems like it's failed you this time. You hired this kit as a sheep herder."

Sheep herder? _Hired?_ His hands fists clenched. He was eight years old. To be hired would be…

A snap of the fingers. "You're right, my sir! I got this kid from that island. Poor lad. He was homeless and everything. At least he has a tent down there now. A rifle too!"

He turned back to him, and his head tilted. "Oh? I don't believe I've heard him speak before, Knuckles? I don't believe he learned English when we grabbed him. He hasn't spoken with anyone recently, has he?"

His blood boiled. "HEY! I'm right here you know! Sonic! Snap out of it!"

The shoe lifted, and was brought across his jaw. A loud crack signalled something had been broken.

"How _dare_ you yell at the CEO of this company! How dare you _speak a name you've never heard!_ My name is told to _no one!_ Not even the dogs!" A growl rose from Sonic's bosom, and Tails attempted to argue back before anything else could escalate. To stop the madness. But his lower jaw did not move. Only sounds from his throat came out, completely unintelligible.

"Oh? What's this?"

Raising an eyebrow, Sonic reached down and stroked through Tails' namesakes. "Last time I checked, you only had _one_ of these…"

Both of their eyes widened when his hand stopped at a cold slab of glass. Like probing worms, his fingers searched the rest of his tail and took hold of it. Tails shivered as his assumed best friend glared at him like the bullies on Westside Island.

"Knuckles. When was the last time a cup reached the ground level of this real estate?"

Another robotic shake of the head. "Never. Would you like for me to punish him for stealing?"

Lifting his shoes off his chest, Sonic turned his back on him and walked back to his desk. "I do not recall having this cup before. If you can explain yourself, two tail, then you can go without any punishments."

He attempted to open his mouth to speak, but a thousand needles jabbed at his jaw as his muscles contracted. As they stared at him, waiting for an answer, he shook his head furiously. Tails just wanted to leave. To escape. To deny all that was happening around him. The featureless walls and furniture, the amnesic friends, and coming into his nose now was the smell of nicotine and tobacco.

Walking over, Sonic took the cigar out of his mouth, and tapped on the end. Ash fell upon Tails' face, and he snapped his fingers. "Times up. Knuckles, deal with him please." Sonic blew out a cloud of smoke. And kept blowing. And blowing. And blowing. Smoke filled the room like fog of a dark forest. Nothing was visible. Tails' eyes burned, and his nose itched. Something grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him into the air, and another hand took him by the tails and held him like a battering ram.

"Fast way down for you, then," Knuckles said.

And he was thrown out of the window. His head broke through the glass and he briefly blacked out mid flight from the asphyxiation and impact, but he came to just in time to see the world that was rushing up to him. Sheet metal huts and grey ashy tents covered the ground outside the building. Turning up, Federation planes flew above. Bombers. The Federation Star radiating off of it like a thorn in every single man's side.

The side of the building was marked on each floor, what animal was to be where. The top floor was _Pigs/Dogs._

Then _Dogs._

Then _sheep._

 _Sheep._

 _Sheep._

 _...sheep._

Below him, herds of anthros and humans alike looked up from their work, which could barely be described as such. Their shovels dug into the thick layer of ash and threw it back upon the ground in the same place.

A tear threatened to rise, but it didn't get the chance.

 _Click._

X-X

He woke up with a gasp, facing up at a grey sky. At first, he thought he had survived the fall. But as he looked around, only a portion of the sky was blocked. A bomb had been dropped a few blocks down, and smoke billowed from the impact zone out over the city.

He panicked as he clutched himself from falling off the edge, his head was hanging off the building. He stood up and walked to the center of the roof, trying to clear the dream out of his head. However, the hostile image of Sonic the Hedgehog was burned into his vision. His namesakes wrapped cradled him as he sat down.

A blue blur zipped from rooftop to rooftop in the distance. Occasionally it would stop, and a figure would look towards ground zero of the bombing. As he got closer, Tails recognized him. Fear clouded his judgement and he covered himself with the bag. He made no move to follow as Sonic zipped away, out of sight once again.

X-X

 _To: Silverthorn_

 _From: General Matt_

 _Date: June 28th, 2019_

 _Subject: Mission_

 _Apologies for the inconvenient means of communication, however, this information cannot be transferred over any radio comms due to the nature of this mission. Destroy this faxed document as soon as you are finished with understanding your new mission. This will serve as a briefing for your mission._

 _ **SITUATION, Background:**_

 _Yesterday afternoon, Sonic the Hedgehog and fox Miles 'Tails' Prower approached alpha squad leader of bravo company, second platoon looking for 'who was in charge'. He brought in his platoon leader, Lt. Nick, and the two anthros conversed with him for some time. They were looking for ways to 'help' the CI effort._

 _Lt. Nick asked for PFC Crowder, a rifleman. He requested that the private lead the two into a known hostile area that a Singaporean G.U.N CI unit was operating in. Boko Haram was known to be operating in between 15.S.A and Singaporean Troops, and as you are aware, much more active than usual._

 _PFC Crowder led the two along MSR Saltwater, across its bridge, and promptly left before anything took place. The HVTs were not aware of his withdrawal, and PFC Crowder proceeded to observe the unfolding situation at a distance. The HVTs approached a group of potential militants, and after some communication, they went into a building and came out with weapons. The militants assaulted the HVTs and seemed to be toying with them, before destroying them. However, a Trooper from the Singaporean unit rounded the corner on MSR Saltwater and rescued the two._

 _ **SITUATION, Current:**_

 _As we do not have comms with the unit, and there is no desire to communicate the existence of the HVTs to another unit outside of ours, it is up to the 4th Counterinsurgency Battalion to find and elimination of HVT Sonic and HVT Tails._

 _ **COMMANDER'S INTENT:**_

 _Lt. Nick consulted his company commander, who then took the responsibility to contact me immediately rather than going through the longer Chain of Command. This was due to the nature of the situation involving two world heroes and stars. Going through the CoC would have not only taken more time, which we did not have, but also would have potentially spread the knowledge of these two being in the area. For now, we want this information to be classified from as many as possible. I approve of this exception of the CoC._

 _Operation Dying Lima is set to start very soon after the beginning of the Invasion, so due to the nature of Sonic the Hedgehog and Miles Prower, I determined the two as HVTs. I gave the order for Lt. Nick to lead the two into a dangerous and lethal situation, and leave them behind. The purpose of this was a objective of opportunity. President Kent would be impressed and pleased with the death the Mobian heroes, and would decrease the moral of not only the M.D.F., but also the whole country. This would mean the possibility of U.F. pulling out of the invasion, and military readiness decreased._

 _ **MISSION:**_

 _Conduct a mission in the form of a Search & Rescue, and unknown to your men, destroy Sonic the Hedgehog and Miles Prower._

 _ **Parris Island**_

The tip of his nose tapped on the floor, and left it again. His arms straightened, and he looked up to see another man doing the same. He did it again. And again. And again. There was no until. There was no finish line. There was just another push up. And another. And another.

His head throbbed and his arms wobbled. Normally this would have been a piece of cake; Shadow was able to do any repetitive task for an almost indefinite amount of time. And although that may hold true, now it was a lot more excruciating than it should be.

Needles jabbed into his biceps as he raised himself off the ground for the one hundred seventeenth time. His movements followed the count of Sergeant Hartmann, who went on an almost impossible to follow tempo.

" _Onetwothree down! One, two, three… up! Down! One! Two! Three...four!"_

The shirt of the black man next to him was soaked, and sweat flowed down his eyes and off his nose. A small puddle had formed under his face.

" _Get on time! You don't count to your own cadence!"_

The sound of a boot connecting with someone's ribs echoed throughout the barracks. Funny, he thought. A platoon of recruits being overworked, yet so few of them made so much as a groan.

The words stopped.

"Ah… shit. Looks like I've lost my place! Who the fuck remembers where we are?"

Shadow held the plank, straining to keep his voice. "One hundred thirty nine!"

Silence set in, and at first, he wasn't sure if he had been heard. Hartmann stood at his side, his shadow looming over him like an unwelcome jacket. Straitjacket.

"...one! Two! Three! Up! Onetwothreedown! One two three up!"

Again, the platoon fell into an odd silence. Thirty, maybe forty men and women were being forced to do too many push ups, after too long of a hike, after too long of a run. Yet no one so much as grunted. Utmost concentration on Hartmann's cadence. Or they had given up on stopping.

" _...up!_ "

Now the room fell, or rather, rose up and shook at the extent of their now weakened yet hardened hands and arms.

"Recover!"

Off their hands and feet and standing at attention again. A fox vomited on the floor in front of him, the _splat_ being the only audible thing. His cheeks went full red after they turned blue.

" _...At ease,_ shake it out!"

An upbeat _'hurrah'_ turned out as a half efforted grunt. Shadow's lips barely opened.

"Ten, hut!"

Heels click together. Chins raised up. Eyes staring blankly.

"Fallout."

Another weak grunt. One man fell to the ground three bunks down. He gave a shake of the head, and wiped his face with the blanket of a bunk bed. They were given five minutes to rest. Not caring that it wasn't his, Shadow collapsed onto the bed. His eyes locked onto the wooden underside of the bed above him, which was his. A crack in the frame filled his vision. There was silence; complete silence. Again. A theme of the hour.

"Hey. That's my bed."

He didn't need to recognize the voice. Rolling his eyes, Shadow got up, and promptly collapsed on the floor. Chaos energy spilling into the world around him. Tiredness overtaking him. He checked his internal clock. Three more minutes. Yes. Three minutes of sleep would be enough.

A familiar frying pan went off and the platoon stomped to attention.

Three minutes was not enough.

X-X

 _ **Parris Island, Practice Drill Deck: 2230 hours.**_

Hours. Hours of marching. His new boots added to the unison of others' boots, which dropped upon the ground like the percussion line of a band. At the edge of the fence, civilians sat back and listened. Some sang and played guitar. Free drums, every day at 2000 hours. G.U.N Platoon 7506 was a band.

" _By the right! Flank!_ _ **March!**_ _"_

Step with the right. Pivot with the left. Step with the right. Follow up with the left. Continue.

" _To the rear!_ _ **March!"**_

Left foot forward. Twist on the right a hundred eighty degrees. Bring the left foot up and stomp. Wait one. Step again with the left foot. Continue.

" _ **Half! Step! MARCH!"**_

Right foot to the left. Stop. Left foot up, thigh ninety degrees to your spine. Stomp forwards. Continue until otherwise ordered.

And they continued for half an hour. Someone's ankle gave out from under then, and the rest of the platoon behind him stepped over and on him. He stopped screaming after the third line passed.

The flag at the front right of the formation was a beacon. Not of hope, but of glory. They were able to withstand this torture for an entire day, and the pride showed. As they were dismissed for the final time, and as they were sent to bed, Shadow couldn't help but smile. He had not expected to be greeted with a challenge. And he had met it with flying colours, he thought.

The pride for the service gnawed at his memory. As he slipped into bed, the radio was left untouched. It never occured to check up on Sonic or the others.

Even Maria couldn't be further from his mind.

X-X

" _I'm gonna make you..._

 _I'm gonna break you..._

 _I'm gonna make you..._

 _ **A fucking psycho.**_ _"_

 _\- Muse, 'Psycho', Drones, 2015_


	11. Chapter X - Poles Apart?

**A few months earlier, Somewhere in Zululand, 0100 hours, CAT time**

 _0100: Go time._

Rouge lugged her carryall backpack over her shoulders, tightened its straps and clicked together its clips. She had already packed away her laser designator, binoculars, and shooting mat into said backpack so all that were left out were her suppressed MP7-AA, her own Glock, and herself. She made sure all of her pouches on her blouse, trousers, and plate carrier were closed and her carryall fastened as tightly as possible. Although uncomfortable, the time she would take picking up a fallen backpack would cost her life.

Once everything was double and triple checked, she started to crawl down the hill, taking each side one at a time. She moved in a zigzag pattern as to avoid putting too much weight on her front. The hill was steep; if she wasn't careful, she would be tumbling at impressive and painful speeds.

Oh, what she would give just to _fly_ down there. She knew, however, that she had to keep things slow. A bat flying through the pitch black sky for a second was easier to spot than a hunk of specially designed camouflage moving slowly across the ground.

After crawling a considerable ways, she checked her watch.

 _0110\. That means ten more to get there, twenty to do my business, twenty to get out._

 _Too easy._

Without even once even glancing up from the ground she was crawling in, she counted ten more minutes of prone movement, and figured it was time to sneak a peek for her destination. A desert beige wall, brightened by the thermal goggles she was wearing. Something was generating heat. And a lot of it.

She raised herself to a crouch, scanning each of the hilltops she had taken note of earlier for good spots for the enemy. Were they smart enough to keep the compound overwatched at all times? Probably not, but it didn't hurt to be careful.

Without making sudden movements, she sneaked her way to the wall, resting her shoulder on it. Crawling for twenty minutes straight does a toll on your joints.

Following the wall, she came upon an entrance and raised her weapon. She pied the inside, clearing all angles except the ones tucked away in the corners; out of sight.

 _This part is always hard…_

Rouge exhaled, calming herself. She silently counted to three.

She breached, flinging her head around checking her blind spots. She followed the wall on the inside until she ran into the a building that she saw the armed militia work in. Rouge raised her low profile thermal goggles off her face and peeked around the front, bringing her weapon to bear. Ducking under the window, she approached the front door.

There could have been a number of things in the sand plastered mud house. Melting down tools and the like for valuable materials, steam work, bomb making; Hell, it was expected that they would be using slaves for physical labour.

The first thing that hit her was the sweet yet rank odor that was sucked into her nostrils as she entered.

The second was the rotten corpse of a child sized human slumped on the ground. Was it a child? She couldn't tell past the third degree burns, rotted flesh, dents, and halfway dried blood.

Her heart rate pumped up to over a thousand beats a minute, and she scanned both sides looking for threats. All thoughts about the atrocity in front of her was forced out of the bat's brain and she became hyper focused in finding the people who might have done this.

Rouge kicked in a door and went in. And was met by a plume of smoke and gas, sweet in smell. Rouge yelped in fear and threw her helmet off her head and backtracked out of the room, frantically scrambling for her gas mask. The rubber of the mask stretched as she pulled it over her face, and the clearing of the filter told her that she was good to go.

 _Fuck, that was close._

Rouge picked her weapon off her chest and carefully walked into the room, waving smoke away with one hand. As the smoke started to become more transparent, Rouge made out a faint cough.

 _There's someone in here?_

"Hello?" she called. "If you're in here, I can help!"

No answer. Rouge found her way to a window that was blacked out and she smashed it with the pistol grip of her gun. Still waving away the thick fog she started to make out a picture in the corner of the room.

She wished she didn't.

Row of men, women, and children all tied to the wall as if they were crucified. Beaten, most of them unconscious, probably smoke inhalation. The head of one girl was bashed in, but her eyes still blinked in defiance, mouth gaped open permanently as if the muscle supposed to be holding it up was too tired to work.

Then she saw the oven. It was… _huge._ The smoke stack was sawed off, smoke billowing out.

Inside were people. Now completely roasted or with a coat of ash on top of them.

She scrambled for her push to talk button, and spoke in gasps.

"G-Grateful four, this is White Rose, they've been _burning people_ i-in here!"

There was a long silence, and she filled the time by running over to the wall and withdrawing her knife, cutting away at the ropes holding the victim's up. She noticed that some of them were chained. As she sawed through yet another blackened tie, static came through her headset.

" _White Rose this is Grateful Four, is anyone alive in there?"_

"Barley! Some are… _fuck!_ Can we get a medevac?"

" _That's a negative White Rose. You've got your information, get the fuck out of there."_

Pulling off her headset, she continued to work. If they couldn't get out of the region, she could get them to a safer place. As she laid down the third prisoner, she focused her attention on the two remaining people.

 _They must have been really important to them..._

She dropped to one knee and opened her carryall, looking for anything to cut through the steel links of the crucified victims.

 _Torch! I brought a torch!_

She threw out the shooting mat, the rangefinder, and spare ammo in search of the most unlikely thing to need on a recon mission. She got hold of the propane powered blowtorch and immediately set to work, ignoring the massive amounts of sparks flying every which way.

Another body dropped.

Then another.

All five survivors were now free; now to get them to safety. She pulled the headset back on.

"Grateful Four this is White Rose, where's the nearest unoccupied village?"

" _White Rose, what the fuck has gotten into you? You have ten minutes to get out before the enemy gets back to your position!"_

Rouge cursed under her breath as she dragged a woman across the splintered wood out of the room.

"Grateful Four, I'm _not_ letting all these people die. You can either help me and get this done more efficiently and have massive media coverage, which I sure as hell _know_ Kent will thank you for; or you can deny me any help, and I'll go AWOL on you. Your call."

 _There you go, Mr. Business Man. Now what it'll be?_

" _...White Rose, I swear to God I'll beat your bat-ass myself once you're back. There's an isolated village two-zero kliks from your position, bearing three-zero-zero. You're alone in figuring out how to get five near-dead people all the way out there. Fuck you, out."_

"That wasn't too hard, was it, hon?"

Rouge had a plan. She saw a wagon just outside, and no doubt all five of them could fit. _Let's see what that PT has done for me._

With two over her shoulders, and one in each arm, Rouge quickly carried them over to the flatbed. As gently as possible she laid them in, cringing when one of the men hit the wood with a _thud._ She sprinted back for the little girl, and once she was in, she took hold of each of the bars extending from the carriage. Then, she let lose her wings out of the back through the special slots she made herself back when she first got the uniform.

She started to run forward following the road. Bearing three-zero-zero was basically following the North West ASR out of the area.

Once she reached takeoff speed, she jumped and glided so that the wheels were still on the ground, and now the wagon was traveling at over a hundred kilometers an hour towards sanctuary.

Or, at least the lesser of two Hells.

X-X

 _ **Present day, New Mobotropolis, Unified Mobius, 1230 Hours**_

The President held the door open for the Queen, as how it should be. Or should it be the other way round? Was she generous enough to allow him to visit, or was he her guest?

Bah, it didn't matter. She was a woman and there was a door.

The natural sun was blinding in comparison to the florescent lights found in the war room. President Kent and Queen Sally XII had been planning the invasion of Madagascar for hours, still disagreeing on each other's approaches. Her attitude towards potential 'civilians' enraged him to no end. Her insistence on the non-use of artillery or any indirect fire made him cringe. No wonder they lost the last war.

As Kent walked out onto the drill deck, he found himself flanked by two lines of Mobian infantry. Each of them handling a bullpup submachine gun length weapon, held in front of their faces as a salute.

The Queen smiled. "These are the Royal Mobian Defense Forces. A company's worth."

Kent nodded, slightly confused.

"Why are the uniforms so bright?"

"Why, the people they are on are bright as well. Each has a custom made carrier rig created just for them to match their fur and skin colour."

"But why rely on their natural colours for camouflage? We've spent billions creating our active-camo isolation suits, and you just knit some suit for someone?"

"Well Mr. President, after millions of years of evolution, wouldn't you trust what nature thinks as camouflage?"

Ah, yes. The Mobians and their atheism. He looked, and pointed at a cat. Bright pink fur stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Tell me, then-how do you evolve _that?"_

She was unfazed. She looked a moment, and her eyes lit up. "Oh! I know her. She's one of the best of her platoon. She's fast enough to not need camouflage."

"Faster than Sonic the Hedgehog?"

Sally chuckled through her sealed lips, not showing even a hint of a smile.

"Nearly. However Mr. President, the concept of 'good enough' has been a complicated one to manage, am I mistaken?"

She was right. In many ways the United Federation was consumed by a sort of perfectionist attitude. From its economy to it's military, technology…

Kent looked over and saw a soldier, holding the flag of Unified Mobius. A golden ring against a sky blue background; the clear blue sky, and the ring: Standing for 'infinite symmetry'. They say that the ring is off centered to the left to keep it centered when it's being flown in the wind. However, he saw it as laziness.

Nature and equality. A stark difference to the Federation's flag, which was a blood red, deep blue, and pure white. Red for the blood spilled in the Unification Wars, blue for the progression of business, the economy, and technology, and white for purity.

Pure meant human: Man and woman.

Ironic to think that a Federation formed to combat these people are now working with them; the non-people. Some of the least pure in the world. Kent couldn't help but question the Mobians' effectiveness.

"Your people are no more than five and a half foot tall, and they are expected to conduct the largest counter insurgency in history?"

She didn't even blink. She raised her fist, and called out an order.

" _On guard!"_

Almost silently, the Mobian soldiers pointed their weapons forward, bayonets like spears. Even the flag carriers got into a combat stance.

"Not a single shout or battle cry," her Majesty's started.

"To my understanding a counterinsurgency is won by protecting, defending, and winning over the trust of civilians in the region in which you operate. The insurgency we fight only gets its manpower from volunteers, or enslavement. My army is a _humble_ one, one that puts the innocent's lives above their own, not for morality alone, oh no. But because it is _the most effective way to victory."_

She spoke as if he was child misbehaving at daycare. Let alone as if he was the most powerful man in the world.

"You, in comparison, have led a war in the Middle East to fight an insurgency that was not there. As the people grew frustrated of your presence, it became easy for the extremists who previously had no power to win over these people's trust and fight for them. Backwards, isn't it, Mr. President?"

Kent and Sally were deadlocked in a staring contest, glaring into each other's minds.

" _Then,_ Mr. President, you thought the best solution to stop them joining the terrorists was to ensure they were not alive to get the chance to do anything. And now, the United Federation is _still_ fighting a war in the Middle East, with no progress made in _years._ "

It's been said millions of times over his five terms, but before he could say so, she drew closer to him. He suppressed his urge to laugh. Barely three feet tall, and trying to be intimidating.

"We successfully held off the Black Arms when they invaded our planet, held the hearts of the Australians when your people invaded, and have created an army not only of the humble and the saving, but also an army capable of disappearing and reappearing _anywhere_ at a _moment's notice._ "

On the outside, Kent showed a blow of confidence. On the inside, he was on the ground, laughing hysterically.

"Therefore, although no experience has been acquired through _failure_ , I believe none is required."

The squirrel's cold eyes cut through the president's like a katana through fruit.

Once again raising her fist, Her Majesty called.

 _"Manajiwin!"_

A word in the language of the Ojibwe, the tongue of the Native Mobian people. Meaning 'respect', it is used in memory for the Native Mobian humans who perished in the plague.

The company put their hands on their hearts and broke formation, leaving the deck. The Queen returned to her soft, friendly tone.

"We can discuss work matters later; up for a drink?"

She smiled, and President Kent recoiled for a moment. Then, he returned his own disguised, easy smile.

"Sure."

X-X

 **Parris Island, 1200 hours**

The next few days and nights were nothing special. Get up at 0400 and run for three hours, go inside at 0700 and eat breakfast. Stay inside until 1000 doing pushups. One thing that Shadow particularly enjoyed were the martial arts training. He had been trained long ago by both the military on the ARK and himself. Every fight ended with his opponent's bloody nose and razer blade like micro cuts all over their arms. This changed when the men and women got issued their combat boots. They were plain white, signifying 'an uncertain path'. Thankfully, Shadow got back his own skates and the rest of the anthros were given back their own items. He still won every fight, but it was always hard fought, now.

The theme for the day was set when Hartmann brought a hose. The kind used to disperse a crowd.

It didn't help that it had rained that night, and that he still wasn't used to running without his skates. Many times, Shadow fell and was nearly crushed under the twenty men, women, and animals behind him. He couldn't ever remember the many homophobic slurs and anthrophobic insults that came out of Hartmann's mouth. They finished late by half an hour.

"No breakfast for today," Nepton said. "Not enough time, back to the track."

And they ran again.

For Shadow, this was fine. He usually doesn't prefer to eat anyway, and the hunger he was suffering from was independent from food. It didn't bother him so much that he was outside running and slipping and sliding again. Even his nerves were indifferent, submerging him in a tub of numbness.

This time, he managed to get to the front of the pack on the start. Likely because he came in last, and was one of the first out of the gate. A recipe for a chaos: the slow at the front, the fast at the back.

His eyes barely opened as the half Boston, half Warsaw voice appeared in his right ear. He couldn't remember the words, but the meaning was clear. Adamusik wanted to know how he was doing.

At first he considered giving the cold shoulder. He'd understand, he was stressed and needed to concentrate. It wouldn't be a problem to give _anyone_ a face full of quills or the sound of silence.

"I'm doing just fine, human," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. Apparently, his conscious wanted conversation.

He asked again. What was his last lap time?

"In the one forties," he started. "I would have gone faster, but I slipped."

How did he slip?

"Water on the ground, you humans and your shoes."

Anthros wear shoes too. He was wearing his skates now.

"Smartass," he said, rolling his eyes.

There was silence again. Minus the panting, and the boots coming down on the ground. They were beginning to sound like a real army. Whatever that meant in everyone's heads, no matter their diversity. It was living up to their own standards, and they becoming proud of it.

They continued a little longer, and this time Adam's voice came through clearly. This time, his left side.

"You think we'll get midday chow?"

His indifference didn't get the chance to show. A wave washed over them, knocking the whole front line off their feet and onto their backs.

Hartmann's yelling never really starts or ends. Usually, he's yelling from the morning to lights out. Even yelling in his own room during firewatch. However, there were moments when the yelling made either more sense, or you were forced to actually _listen_ to it.

"Dead! All of you! Fucking dead! Pay attention to the man with the fucking gun! You fuckers won't last a second out there 'fighting' those hajjis!"

They were permitted to go back inside two laps later. They quickly dried themselves with their sheets and blankets, as there was 'no time to shower', changed clothes, and were right back outside. This time, forming a circle around the two instructors.

At their feet were four sealed boxes. Hartmann stood with a Ka-bar, ready to slice them open. Nepton stood, arms behind his back. A smug look on his face.

"You will now learn how to operate in a nuclear, biological, or chemical environment," he started. "Inside here are Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical protection suits. Conveniently named, the _NBC_ Suit. Hart, pass each off."

They were each given a full suit with boots, and a gas mask.

"As you can probably guess from the nature of the squeaking, these suits are non permissible. To those high school dropouts, that means it is full seal. Nothing can get in. Nothing can get out. You will learn how to dawn these suits in less than a minute, and how to operate in them for extended periods of time."

They were lectured the history of chemical warfare, the limitations of the suit, how you had to move, what you could and couldn't touch. So on, and so on. Shadow soaked up the material quickly, hanging on to whatever new information he could. He only now realized the monotony of doing the same thing for weeks on end, and was now bathing in the very short class session.

Maybe he should have just gone to school.

"You will now break the seals for your NBC suits. Tear the plastic and take the suit out."

As they broke into their new clothes, one recruit had a question.

"Sir, what do we do with the mask?"

Rolling his eyes, Nepton demonstrated the procedure.

"First, Private," he said, words crawling off his tongue. "You set the chemical mask on the ground… then… you pick up your suit… tear the seal… and open it up."

The private gave a quick salute. "Thank you, sir."

" _Dumbfuck,"_ Nepton said, slapping the recruit. "You don't fucking salute NCOs like me or Hartmann, do you understand?"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Are you going to salute me again, private dumbfuck?"

"Sir no sir!"

Shaking his head, he radioed in an almost alien set of words.

Shadow looked up. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. A steady and flat plaster of bluish grey. A puff of grey smoke popped in the sky, and dust fell down. More flak burst over their heads.

" _Gas! Gas! Gas! Get in the suits! Go! Go! Go!"_

As he prepared to jump in, Shadow came to realize that his was for a human. He raised his hand. Hartmann smacked it down and spat in his face.

"Stripes, I already know what you have to fucking say, didn't you listen last night when I told you I could read your mind? Come with me!"

The anthros trailed Hartmann as they went back inside, and anthro cat, hedgehog, and squirrel suits were produced. As they slipped inside, Shadow couldn't help but notice that they were all the same.

" _Get to the artillery battery! Follow me!"_

And he was off, in a full sprint. More puffs of smoke and ash puffed above them. Shadow fell in column, nearly tripping on his first step. The floppy boots dragged across the ground as he attempted to make his strides.

The platoon fell in behind them, shuffling at a decent trote. The sun beat down upon as they ran, heating up the rubber suits and making them hot to the touch. Shadow's fur burned every time his arms and legs came in contact with the inside of the NBC, and he felt hairs shear off due to pure friction.

Five minutes of more running, and the occasional gunshot or explosion would startle them. As they passed other elements, Shadow took note that this wasn't fake gas, as even the high ranking officers were, at the very least, wearing their gas masks.

Circles of sandbags emerged on their right, and the crazed Junior Drill Instructor led them towards the field. The giant cannons that pointed towards the shore gave away what they were doing.

Screaming even louder to get through his mask, Nepton gave a briefing.

"We are to conduct a counter battery mission on whoever is launching chemical weapons at this base! We will start with a fire mission with smoke rounds to confirm the target, then follow up with another five fire missions with interchanging high explosive and airburst rounds!"

Hartmann broke in, pumping his arms back and forth.

"And these are the GC-45 200mm howitzers that you will be operating! These motherfuckers were designed to shoot into goddamn _space!_ So you best appreciate this opportunity to shoot the most high speed gun that God's ever made!"

They got to the guns, and an artillery crew gave them instructions and assigned roles to each of the members of the platoon. The two hundred millimeter shells caused the demonstrators to nearly collapse under the weight of the round, knees bend at the most acute of angles. The charge inserted afterwards was loaded in two pieces, and rammed by a man with a ten foot long ram rod. They closed the breach, and pulled a cord.

It was like the world stood still, but the world kept going. Dust and smoke rushed over the sky above them as the built in hearing protection of the mask barely stopped the shock wave from puncturing their eardrums.

As the air cleared, Nepton patted Shadow on the back.

"Your turn."


	12. Chapter XI - We Get It

**Parris Island Artillery Battery, 1500 hours**

It looked much easier when the artillerymen were doing it.

Shadow was designated the shell loader, ramming the initial shell into the chamber before the powder. No one actually knew if it was, indeed, powder. They couldn't feel the bag through their gloves, and they couldn't smell the discharge through their masks. Men fell to the ground carrying their own rounds, but he found it much easier.

His artificial strength helped with the curling motion, and endurance was much higher than the average human.

The other anthro in the group, however, did not have the help of being designed by Dr. Gerald Robotnick. Her hands shook in between shots, and was soon rotated to the firingman before she seriously hurt herself. Her arms stopped shaking after her third shot, and under the mask she smiled as she discharged the artillery piece.

The deafening boom caused the operators' skin and fur to wave. Bells rang nonstop, only quieting down for the next order to be shouted over the melody. They repeated the process only to be deafened again.

As the word fire came out of Hartmann's mouth they were meant to fire all at once, to allow all the shells to hit the target at the same time, wreaking devastation upon their foe. Every few shots, a massive wave hit the beach just in front of them, saltwater washing over their feet. The rubber covers over their boots became slippery, and a man in the next gun fell while loading a shell. As he fell, the round slid out of the breach and came down upon his arm. His screaming was muffled, like his nose was pinched. Smothered by his mask.

Most of the platoon ignored the accident until a ceasefire was called just after the next firing.

" _All clear!"_ Nepton screamed, tearing his mask off. _"Get the corpsman!"_

They ripped their black faces off their heads and without any word peeled off the rubber suits. A few managed to take a glance at his broken arm, bending the wrong way. The screams seeping into the background like it was a gust of wind, or a downpour.

X-X

 **Somewhere in Zululand: 0256 hours, CAT time**

To most people, the morning twilight is something beautiful, a foreshadowing of the gleeful sunrise that would follow. A new day, a fresh slate for anything to happen. Rouge looked out of the dirty window, her wrist blocking her vision. One eye trained on the black horizon, silhouetted by mountains of the South African landscape. Her other eye trained on her dimless watch, the digital seconds silently ticking away.

For her, the morning twilight would be a beacon of hopelessness. It was only natural, the bat to be most awake and enthusiastic for the time of night. Nocturnal mammal, after all. However, the darkness was the only blanket of safety between the tortured and maimed victims of Boko Haram, and their former captors. They would have to wait another 12 hours before an EVAC would reach them. There would be no attempt to fly a helicopter through the clear blue sky in broad daylight, no matter how much media blackmailing took place or TV coverage the mission commander was offered.

The plan was simple. Land the Chinook just behind Rouge's building. A team of four troopers from G.U.N Spider Troupe would run out and help Rouge carry out the victims. Chinook would take off, and land on the G.U.N Navy carrier that was just six hours away by helicopter. What wasn't accounted for was that the sound of an aircraft in the sky is exclusively enemy to the insurgents; anyone in Boko Haram would wake to the CH-47's loud engines flying overhead, and would sprint towards wherever the sound came from. Five minutes to get the victims on board, minimum. The nearest town was just south of the isolated village, a two minute walk away. There would certainly be contact halfway through loading the bird, if there miraculously wasn't any sympathizers in their current position.

All of this was assuming the extract would come _at all._ Grateful Four said he was checking with the closest carrier group if they would be in on the plan. He heard no response.

Rouge let out a breath she didn't know she was holding into her shemagh. She managed a glance back in the room, her shooting mat and gun bag acting as makeshift blankets for the former prisoners. There was one who woke up, and he had Rouge's submachine gun in his hands. His eyes were wide, and his mouth gaped open. He knew what was going on, and his grip on the weapon was tight. It would be the only thing between him and a not-so-happy reunion with a religious radical.

Rouge wasn't unarmed, however. For use at longer ranges, agents such as her were issued a designated marksman rifle along with her anthro-built personal defense weapon. Ten rounds of 7.62mm caseless, good for ranges up to two thousand meters.

 _That is, if a three foot tall animal could handle the recoil._ A high ranked asshole would say. However, it was just another army half-logic; the shorter height was beneficial to the shooter when standing. Not as much leverage for the gun to use to knock you off balance.

She found herself stretching her white gloves on the pistol grip, adrenaline building. Her watch showed 0259. They wouldn't stand for an operation off the hour. If there was help, it would arrive in the next minute.

For a moment, she thought she was back home in Club Rouge. In the kitchen, cooks at the table, cutting onions on the chopping block, white walls all around. Shadow in the corner of the room, grunting. The chopping got louder, and louder.

The crack of a rifle brought her back to reality. The cooks at the chopping block were the Chinook's rotor blades. The shot, of course, was an insurgent thinking he could have a crack at a helicopter moving at a few hundred miles an hour.

" _Njengoba yenziwe?"_ she whispered.

"Ye...yebo... Yebo." The faintest of nods. The helicopter drew closer, distinguishable by sound alone. That earlier gunshot was probably fired at a blank sky. The noise level grew, to the point of spikes-in-the-ear levels of loud. His mouth moved again, but there was no sound besides the rage of twin engines.

And like that, Rouge looked out the window again and there it was. The loading ramp was open, and according to plan, four Troopers sprinted out.

With the butt of her rifle, she shattered the glass of the window, and called out for the men. _"In here! We're in here!"_ After an instinctively pointing his muzzle at her, he gave a thumbs up. One crouched under her window, scanning out towards the road while the other three came around to get inside.

" _Beka phansi isikhali!"_ she yelled, deepening her voice to make it distinguishable from the helicopter. Armed victim nodded and laid down Rouge's charity gun. Native put his hands on his head as a rifleman kicked in the door.

Three figures followed, lights on the barrel of their rifles pointing at the ground. White circles illuminated the dirt like searchlights.

One of them had a underslung grenade launcher on his weapon. He was the team leader.

" _How many are there?"_ Though the black face of mask and visor would scare most, Rouge thought she was talking to the Messiah himself.

" _What you see is what you get! That one can walk but the rest are incapacitated!"_

" _Alright! Walt! Drop your weapon and help me get this one up! Bat, get the girl!"_

 _Hm, giving the girl an easier job or working with an anthro's limitations? Both are as stupid as the other._

With the child over her shoulder, she yelled at the Zulu that still was surrendering to nothing.

" _Shuka! Siza nalena!"_ At the response of his name, he nodded and started his slow process, starting the fireman carry.

Rouge ran out the door and around the corner of the building, rifle bouncing on her stomach as she ran up the cargo ramp of the chopper. A swift drop of the girl into the doctor's arms and she was back out, sprinting to get another. She nearly bumped the two troopers carrying an unconscious victim as she squeezed through the door. Her carryall rattled as she dropped it, stuffing her gun bag and shooting mat into it. Lugging another zombie over her shoulder, she was out again, with the two troopers returning to the building for one last run.

" _Contact!"_ The rifleman holding security under the window yelled. "Southeast, five hundred meters! Swarm of foot mobiles!"

Rouge brought down her low profile infrared goggles to see the IR laser being projected from his rifle. The world turned to black and grey, with a white line projecting from the trooper's barrel. A line of men, colored red and purple were skylining on the top of a hill.

" _Permission to engage, sir!"_

" _Negative! Fire when fired upon!"_

They must be in comms with each other using their Knighthelm IIIs, because Rouge couldn't hear a word they were saying. However, she didn't need to; she knew Spider Troupe well enough to know that those lines were always said upon contact with _anything._

Up the ramp, a careful drop, down the ramp. One more to grab, and he could walk. That was, if nothing catastrophic happened to him.

" _Shuka!"_ she yelled. _"Isikhathi ukuya!"_

She didn't even look through to him as she bolted across towards the helicopter. She raised the rifle to her shoulder and looked down the scope, zeroing in on a random insurgent.

 _Crack! Poosh! Bang!_

Her head turned to find the impact of an insurgents round right behind her, and her ears flattened to her head under the shemagh as the rifleman popped off three shots.

Rouge turned her head back to the enemy and looked down the scope.

 _Breath out. Keep pushing the air out of your lungs. Stop breathing. Keep steady. Squeeze slowly. Keep steady…_

 __And an unfortunate militant dropped five football fields away. The process was robotically repeated, shot after accurate shot sent towards the enemy. She didn't even notice that her ears were ringing from the constant enemy fire coming her way. Through her scope, someone in a pink and dirtied shirt levelled his belt fed machinegun from the hip and let the bullets fly. _Not even aiming._ she thought.

Rouge put him in her crosshairs and down he went. He fell to the side, muzzle sweeping half a dozen fighters, his finger still on the trigger. As he performed his final fall, five more went down with him. Shot in the back by a dead man with a machine gun. _What a way to die…_

Another pull of the trigger, and no one dropped on the other end. She pushed the magazine release and reached into her plate carrier, drawing another magazine. As she fumbled with the ammo, her eyes went back and scanned the area around her; a second nature after all those training sessions.

As she looked back at the house, there was a figure at the door, limping.

 _Shuka!_

" _Hey! Get some more fire up!"_ Rouge yelled. _"We got one more on the way!"_

Now, shots were coming from all sides. Even the side gunner of the helicopter with the gatling gun was in on the action. The land was covered in a sea of yellow and red tracers, each both gracefully and violently hitting the other side. She forced the box into the weapon and yanked the charging handle. Through her scope, she took careful aim at more insurgents, and more dropped with ease.

And she saw one, aiming the terrorist's favorite weapon: an RPG. She covered his head with the center of her sight picture and pulled. _Click!_

 _Fuck! Jam!_

" _RPG!"_ she yelled. _"Drop that motherfuck-"_

Another glance at the building and the limping man had not gotten far. After shuffling a few paces, he stood still, as if he had noticed something.

And the mud hut exploded. Fragments of sandstone hit her in the face as she rushed out of the helicopter and towards the ruins.

" _Shuka! Shuka!"_

Bullets landed beside her as she dug up rubble. A cut formed on her hand as she threw away shards of what used to be a window. Someone patted her from behind. She knew what he was saying. Time to go.

The rest felt like seconds. They loaded the bird and left, doctor treating all of the escapee's wounds. An hour later, and she was on the U.F.S Westopolis, in her bunk, and drinking away the guilt.

X-X

 **Somewhere in Beirut, 1130 hours**

A hot gust of wind blew, and was stopped by Sonic's quills, which were nearly imperiable from the dust and muck. He hadn't washed in weeks. He hasn't seen a body of water in weeks. Funny, how the lack of his greatest fear would soon be the death of him. He had always wanted to be in a desert. No more, now.

Retracing his steps, he walked the bridge that spanned over the dried river, dragging himself to the sound of gunfire. He considered going around the fighting, but indifference took over. He didn't change his course.

A bullet passed through his quills, friction cleaning more than any brush could have. He turned to face a squad of G.U.N troopers, who were staring at him with their pitch black faces of mask and visor. One stood up and pushed his palm down at him. Rolling his eyes, Sonic moved on. The troops shook it off and shot over his head at the terrorists who were too shocked to keep firing.

The people that were few and far between became more prominent, and they were funneled into a checkpoint. However, there was no checking of identity or legality. They patted him down, and he was off. They didn't bother to check his quills.

As he passed from the waring to the peaceful side of the city, he looked towards the rooftops, eyes that were numb to the sun's rays traced the sides of buildings, looking for any familiar figures. Tails, hopefully.

The sun moved, hours passed like minutes. The airport came into view, red signs reading in arabic. The hexagons turned him away, and arrows pointed him out onto a railroad. Hordes of people filed into the doors of the cars of the train. He trotted with the current of the crowd, floating around like driftwood in the ocean. They boarded, and advertisements plastered the walls and the one way windows. From insurance to supermarkets to stock to food. A television blasted a news story: _'Why aren't millennials buying diamonds?'_

A young woman across from him turned away from the television and down to her hand, exposing the naked ring finger that the story despised. She turned to her husband, and embraced him in pity. She hissed prayers under her breath. He was too poor to love her properly. They separated.

The train broke out of the dense, beige city and into the open beige desert. Vast spaces of nothing only broken by the wreckage of a G.U.N tank, or the mountain of an above ground mass grave. Trenches lined the side of the railroad, showing where the aborigines took their stand to keep control of the tracks.

Eventually, the scenery changed to a massive aircraft. The train came to a halt, screeching and scratching like fingernails down a chalkboard. The doors opened, and the sheep spilled out like milk out of jug. A section of the desert had been turned into a runway, a more safe runway out in the middle of nowhere. The plane that would take them away parked on one side.

They shuffled over, slowly and lazily. Sonic's usual speedy tendencies were nowhere to be found, and he accepted the boring pace.

Another checkpoint, this time, long checks of every single person. There was a sign next to each guardpost, first reading in arabic, then english below.

 _لا حيوانات_

 _No Anthros_

His brain attempted to process the text, and eventually realized what that meant. He wasn't allowed here. All he knew was that he wanted to leave, and that he wasn't allowed to.

Rising on his toes, he attempted to look over the hundreds of heads in front of him. A racoon child was taken out of the line, and was brought over beside a guard house. The guard pulled a pistol and promptly shot the animal between the eyes, the body falling backwards into a ditch. He holstered his weapon and got back to looking for undesirables.

Whipping his head around, Sonic searched for somewhere to run to. Someone to hide behind. Something to get inside of. His eyes caught the nose gear of the aircraft, a minute run away for a human. If he were himself, could cut it to three seconds.

But he wasn't himself. He hadn't eaten properly in weeks. He's had a cup of water every three days. He hasn't been sheltered since his arrival. He was restricted to sleeping on the rooftops of buildings, as the ground often had spikes in the concrete. Preventing the sleeping homeless from getting in the way.

His hands attempted to clench into a fist, as fought himself. Should he stay in the line and risk dying? Or attempt a speed he hadn't ran in weeks on an empty stomach?

For the first time in weeks, his heart raced. Indifference was broken by a desire to live. Impending doom looming over him. He almost missed the feeling.

The current pushed him down the stream of the line, and the officer kept walking down the line. His sidearm in his hand. Looking. Looking for _him._

The aviators glinted, and gave a shout. The officer raised the gun at him, giving orders in a language he didn't bother to comprehend.

He didn't almost miss the feeling, he _did_ miss it. He cared, now. More than ever.

He was going to live.


	13. Chapter XII - Live Fire

**Parris Island, All Weather Training Area, 1400 hours**

" _Get over the bar! GET! OVER! THE BAR!"_

Shadow jumped and grabbed hold of the bar, whose coat of skin matched the drill sergeant's rusty, loud, and _painful_ voice. He yanked himself up and over, flying over the bar like an acrobat, then landing back in the mud. Most anthros would have been thinking about how their fur would be forever dirtied by the goo, and that they didn't see a shower when they came into the barracks. Shadow, however, was different.

He was a combat _machine,_ set on completing the set task ahead of him. Nothing in his mind deviated from the completion of his mission; emotions shutting down, long term memory temporarily suspended, and short term memory focussed on everything that could help him get through most efficiently.

Though it was the middle of summer, the surface was like it had been pouring for days _._ Shadow regained his balance after his feet slipped once again, continuing to bolt forward through the seemingly endless obstacle course.

"Congratu- _fucking_ -lations Faggot Stripes, you are in the lead! How about we make this race a little more fair; _on your face and give me twenty!"_ screamed the eagle.

Shadow practically fell forwards and got on his hands and feet, and attempted a pushup. His feet slid back on the wet and squishy surface as he tried to lower his weight. As his nose touched the ground, his arms cramped, likely from the Chaos withdraw he was suffering. Biceps strung as he raised and dropped himself, and he lost count of how many he was doing as he concentrated on this numb torture. 

" _Hey, red striped build-a-bear!_ What the fuck are you going for, a _medal of honor?_ I asked for twenty, not a waste of time, _get your ass moving, faggot!"_

He got up and continued to sprint, then almost immediately jumped up a high wall. His fingers started to slip as he gripped the edge, but he managed to hang tight and Shadow heaved himself up. The rest of the platoon had managed to catch up, fellow anthros jumping up as well, their more powerful legs and lighter bodies allowing for such aerobics.

However, the humans of the group were struggling. Combined with the run and PT session just before this, all of them could not leap high enough to get over. One man jumped and his face made contact with the concrete wall with a _'wack!'._ Shadow, thinking quickly, took hold of the cat he recognized as his teammate, just before she went down the other side.

"Jerry! Help me get these people up!" he barked.

She hesitated, and with a nod, she ran back to the ledge signalling people to grab onto her hand. Shadow joined her, and lugged up a man, face unreadable thanks to the thick coat of mud acting as a mask.

"Go go go!" he said, and patted him on the back.

As the duo helped the rest of the platoon, Gunnery Sergeant Nepton nodded.

"Stripes there, he's got it," Gunny said. "Already trying to work as a unit."

Hartmann chuckled. "I'll be damned if he keeps that attitude going into the low crawl."

"Woah, _wait,_ " Nepton turned his head to face the bald eagle, a sadistic smile on his face. "It is _day two,_ these people will fucking freak!"

"Three weeks, Gunny. Three weeks to get these idiots ready to go over the ocean and invade an island filled to the brim with medieval thinking hajis. You think I can take my time with this? And don't you fucking try to pull that higher rank stuff on me. _Your_ job is to teach them, _my_ job is to make them feel like shit."

Hartmann pulled a pistol from the inside of his shirt, and raised it to the sky.

"Let's see how much faster they run now."

 _Bang!_

Shadow's head turned and his eyes focussed on the shooter. _God damnit, he's trying to scare us again._

Man and woman after man and woman were heaved up, Shadow and Jerry flinching slightly at each shot fired. After what felt like forever, the platoon was over the obstacle and continuing to run in the dreadful mud.

"Okay," Shadow said. "Follow me."

They hopped off on the other side, a splash sending brown, sticky liquid into their faces. As they bolted forward, gunshots began to sound like they were passing closer, and on either side of them, sprinklers sprayed them with a downpour of artificial rain.

"Hey, _Shadow,_ right?" Jerry asked as they vaulted another log, raised at head height.

"Yes, what is it?" Shadow nearly slipped again, signs of his lack of experience 'dehorsed' from his skates showing more now than ever.

"Thank you for stopping me, _oof!"_ her breath was knocked out of her as she fell to the prone position, high crawling below some wooden platforms. Shadow's claws gripped the ground, instincts telling him where the dry areas of dirt were. She continued, stuttering after a round passed over them, seemingly over their heads.

"I- I, never would have stayed and helped if you wouldn't have stopped me-"

 _POW!_

"I'm just kinda… I just want to look after myself, alone. You know? And I'm glad you made me stop and help."

Shadow managed a glance towards his teammate, and saw the lack of a glint or shine in her eyes. Photographic memory kicked in, and his machine-like instincts were put on hold, while a new sub focus was introduced. The picture of Jerry's face stayed in his sight, even as he jumped over and crawled through more obstacles. Her eyes, matte purple. Flat, dull, and nothing to tell anyone around her that she had a purpose, or if she had even given _herself_ a purpose. She didn't regret a decision to come into Hell. She had never had a choice.

" _What the fuck, Stripes? Can't make up your mind whether you like limp dick or soggy pussy?_ Why, I odda beat one of your personalities out of you, fuckin' Dr. King Jr. fuck! Get your ass moving!"

Shadow noticed the pack in front of him pulling away, and he sped himself up, digressing his internal observations.

"Come on!" he shouted to the cat. "We can't fall behind now!"

"My legs are killing me… I'll catch up myself."

On every step, her left leg buckled and she caught herself with the other. Her head hung low, breaths were too short, too choppy. Signs of exhaustion. Shadow's eyebrows lowered.

"Oh no you don't," he grabbed her wrist, and powered forward. Cat nearly fell forward, but trotted along like a train car pulled by an engine.

He looked up, and noticed a that the green in front of the obstacle course was much closer.

 _The end is in sight, just thirty more meters!_

" _CONTACT! DOWN! DOWN!"_

A chain of automatic fire came from the front of the pack, and Shadow flung himself to the ground, face cushioned by a thick layer of mud.

"Come on maggots, you didn't think you'd get out that easily, did you!? _YOU'RE BEING FIRED UPON THAT MOBIAN DOG BAIT! CRAWL! CRAWL!"_

He failed to notice that the thirty meters left were to be done at a literal snail's pace. His white, puffy chest fur was now the same color as the whole world: brown. He dragged himself side by side, one lunge after the next, each feeling like it should have been his last. However, in the back of his mind he couldn't help but know that there was much more…

Time skipped in his head, his brain shutting down short term memory in favor for repetitive action. It was common, especially on long trips where there was no possible danger. However, if he hadn't have had this dump of time, he would have surely gone insane.

He glanced up, his view of the sky layered by a mask of rusty, metal stars. Barbed wire.

A long burst of gunfire ripped up the ground to his right, and his ears rung. The barrel of the machine gun swung around and nearly hit the man in front of him,

" _Faster! Faster! Keep your pretty heads down! You don't wanna go home clean, do ya!? These are live rounds firing over your heads! Go! Go!"_

A single heart beat was stronger than the rest, and his head whipped around to find Jerry. Her hands were stretched as far as could be, biceps shaking. She had an eye closed, wincing at every movement. Her mouth was wide open, as if her body was sending the energy needed to use her jaw elsewhere.

" _I… I can't…!"_

Shadow grunted, and shook his head. Why did she have to break down now? Frustration took over, and the urge to keep moving without her grew strong.

Gritting his teeth, he crawled over, his outstretched hand failing to make a comforting hold on her wrist.

" _Jerry! You have to go! Those are live rounds!"_ he yelled, the attempt at sympathy dropped off his tongue like a rock. There was none to be found. _Leave her. She's hopeless._

" _You animals crawl like my dead grandma! Keep your fucking heads in the dirt!"_

" _I can't, Shadow!"_

Another machine gun burst interrupted their dialogue, and even Hartmann's screaming could not be heard over the ringing in their ears. Both sapient's lips moved, but neither heard words.

 _I can't move around her, she's in the way. I have to help._

Another splash in the mud and the hedgehog dragged himself towards his petrified comrade. There was no use reasoning to her, as if her frontal lobe had shut down, all motivation and logic out the window.

Jerry got onto her hands and knees, trying to stand. Time slowed, and Shadow lunged with his degloved hand. It wrapped around her wrist, and Chaos energy flowed into and through her body. Shadow felt his arm lose all feeling, and watched as Jerry regained it. Her eyes shot open in a flash of desire, of motivation. Shadow pulled down. 

And a bullet went through her brain.

The machine gun continued, until Nepton sprinted and grabbed hold of the gunner arms.

" _CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE, GOD DAMNIT!"_

The gentle whistle of a South Carolinian breeze overtook the world, along with the gentle crashing of the waves just miles away. The gunner had his head in his hands, and everyone in the low crawl had stopped dead in their tracks. The sprinklers still going, soaking the recruits down to the bone. Hartmann, with teeth clenched, stomped his way towards Jerry's body; arm hanging on the barbed wire, her face in the mud.

Shadow's mind turned into a traffic jam. The combat equivalent of road rage filled his veins. He couldn't prove himself. That he could finish this course. He couldn't finish this course.

 _It's her fault._

"Shit!" Hartmann's fingers were on her neck, checking for a pulse. Sure enough, she was dead. From the mess of an exit wound, blood dripped onto the mud puddle she laid on. Shadow's eyes focused on the disgusting soup of red and brown.

A second man joined the eagle's side, a red cross on his arm. Nepton, from the machine gun nest, spoke. "Doc, there's nothing you can do… get… I'll call the MP and Post Commander. You call S1 and get the girl to the sick bay. Any patients in there get moved next door. I don't want people seeing…"

Nepton managed one more look at Jerry's corpse.

"...her."

"Y-yessir, I'll be back with the stretcher," and the medic turned away, sprinting back to his medical truck.

As soon as he was gone, Hartmann's balloon popped.

"God damnit! I told you to keep your fucking head down! Fucking potatoes in your ears, cat bitch! If you would have listened to me, your head wouldn't have been emptied of your small ass brain, stupid pet!"

He punched the air in front of him and kicked the dirt beneath him onto the corpse. The tail twitched, tensed up into a coil, and relaxed for the final time.

X-X

 **A few months earlier, off the coast of South Africa, 0400 hours, CAT time**

She went bed half an hour ago. She had drank herself to sleepiness half an hour before that. Yet her eyes wouldn't close. They didn't want to. It wasn't the first time she had killed someone before, far from it. She had actually come to enjoy the sensation of hitting nine hundred meter shot in the heart.

However, she had never failed at bringing someone home.

Probably because her missions implied going in and out of a zone, _alone._ With no food or water except as much as she could pack into her carryall, and only enough ammunition to fight off for half an hour. For months at a time. She loved it. And she knew her information was invaluable to the war effort. Rather, the war soon to come.

Four knocks. One after the other, deliberate pauses in between. _Tap. Tap. Tap...tap._

Her eyes rolled. Letting go of the ceiling bar and dropped to the hatch, swinging it open. She deadpanned.

" _What."_

The man behind the radio. Grateful Four, otherwise known to the rest of the force as ' _that asshole'_. Leader of G.U.N Spider Troupe, section three. So Gung Ho, he legally renamed himself after his callsign. He took orders not from the Army, Navy, Airforce, or even the overall G.U.N leader. Section leaders take orders from the president himself.

Which goes _great_ for his ego.

"You and me need to have a talk, _agent,"_ he said, talking down to her position. Blood boiled.

"Will all due respect, _sir_ , I had just had a traumatic experience and I _don't_ plan on talking about it at least for the night. I'm sleeping. Goodnight."

Closing the door, Rouge flew back up to her bar on the ceiling and wrapped around it. She wouldn't stand for his shit tonight. Deranked or otherwise, she was going to get some sleep.

Three bangs. Again, something urgent. She ignored it, closed her eyes, and fell into sleep.

X-X

Things were not good.

On the deck of the strike carrier _Westopolis_ , Rouge and the rest of the agent team on the carrier (six anthro agents) were formed up, line abreast. Position of attention.

Grateful Four held out Rouge's medal. It represented her membership in the Spider Troupe: The most elite in all of the Guardian Units of Nations. Special intelligence, espionage, recon, diplomacy. She, lucky enough to be part of the elitist of the elite, the Special Intelligence.

Spider Troupe were also not exactly hesitant to drop someone off the face of the planet if they weren't desired to continue working with them.

"Due to disobedience of the Spider Troupe leader of section three, the waste of human resources, and haste of action; _Agent Rouge the Bat is expelled from the Guardian Units of Nations."_

The loudspeaker on the carrier blasted the message three more times, and her fellow agents made an about face. Grateful Four turned, and marched to the edge of the carrier. Her medal was held out over the water, and let go.

In a way, Rouge was relieved. No more death, no more destruction. No more stress.

Civilian life would treat her well, she thought.

X-X

 _To: LtCol Geirmundr_

 _From: General Matt_

 _Date: July 3th, 2019_

 _Subject: Mission_

 _A few days ago, the 4th CounterInsurgency Battalion of the 15.S.A G.U.N Army was tasked with finding and destroying two HVTs in the form of Sonic the Hedgehog and Miles Prower. You know that this task is of utmost importance, and I would only contact other leaders if this task needed help completing._

 _ **SITUATION:**_

 _On June 27th, the 4th CI Battalion had made contact with these two heroes, and were tasked with destroying them in a search and rescue manner after an attempt to lead them into combat failed. However, when guarding a checkpoint for an aircraft outbound for Frankfurt, Germany, LtCol Silverthorn spotted and attempted to engage HVT Sonic the Hedgehog, but failed. The plane has left, and it is likely that the HVTs are attempting to regroup in Frankfurt. By taking into account my denial of your unit to fight in Iraq, I am giving you this important mission just before the invasion, and to help with the strike of anthros for Operation Dying Lima._

 _ **MISSION:**_

 _The 9th SS Battalion of the Prussian G.U.N Spider Troupe will find and destroy the HVTs, and provide information for their intentions._


End file.
